—Preliminary analyses show that the concentration of the substance in Evan’s blood is significantly higher than in Nora’s and Leo’s —he finally explained.
The officer then crossed his arms, observing me with an awkward mixture of suspicion and sympathy that made me understand what they were thinking even before they said it out loud.
“That suggests he may have ingested the substance before the others,” the officer added. “Or that the amount he consumed was different.”
The silence that followed was so heavy that I could hear the steady hum of the fluorescent lights in the hallway and the distant echo of a heart monitor inside the trauma area.
“Are you implying that my husband poisoned our family?” I finally asked, feeling anger begin to mix with fear inside my chest.
Neither of the police officers responded immediately, and that lack of denial was far more terrifying than any words they could have said.
“We’re just trying to understand what happened tonight,” the officer finally said in a measured tone. “And your help could be crucial in saving lives.”
That last sentence shot through my mind like an electric shock.
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