Chapter 4 - The Nightly Poison
Later that evening, the storm outside battered the thick glass windows of Julian’s bedroom. Clara sat on the edge of his massive four-poster bed, holding a small silver tray. On it rested a glass of water and two small, blue pills.
"Take them," Clara said loudly, her voice clear and authoritative.
Julian recoiled. "They make my head fuzzy. They make me forget."
"I said, take them, Julian," Clara repeated. But beneath the tray, where the shadows hid her movements, she slipped a small tissue into Julian’s hand. She gave him a pointed, urgent look.
Julian’s heart hammered. He took the pills, tossed them into his mouth, and took a swig of water. But instead of swallowing, he expertly pushed the pills into his cheek, just as he had seen actors do in movies. He swallowed the water dramatically, opened his mouth to show his tongue, and smiled a sleepy, vacant smile.
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"Good boy," Clara said. As she leaned in to tuck his blanket, Julian spat the dissolving blue pills into the tissue.
"Keep faking it," Clara whispered, so softly he almost didn't hear her. "We need your mind clear for tomorrow. I need you to tell me exactly what you saw the night your mother vanished."
