Chapter 1 - THE FIRST BRUISE
Six days earlier, Daniel Mercer noticed the bruise while his mother was reaching for a teacup.
It circled her wrist in the shape of four dark fingers.
Evelyn quickly pulled down the sleeve of her pale gray cardigan, but Daniel had already seen it.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“That isn’t nothing.”
They were sitting in the breakfast room of the Mercer house, a three-story brick home built by Daniel’s grandfather nearly seventy years earlier. Morning sunlight crossed the long wooden table, catching the steam above the tea and the dust in the air.
Vanessa stood near the counter preparing Evelyn’s medicine.
“She slipped in the bathroom yesterday,” Vanessa said.
Evelyn looked down.
Daniel turned toward his wife.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“You were in meetings all day.”
“You could have called.”
“I handled it.”
Vanessa placed two white pills beside Evelyn’s tea. Her movements were calm and precise.
Evelyn stared at the pills but did not touch them.
Vanessa smiled.
“Your medicine, Evelyn.”
“I don’t want it.”
“The doctor said you need it.”
“My head feels clearer without it.”
Vanessa’s smile remained, but her eyes hardened.
Daniel noticed.
“What is the medication for?”
“Memory problems,” Vanessa replied. “We discussed this.”
“We discussed having her evaluated. We didn’t discuss increasing her dosage.”
“Dr. Cole increased it.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
Daniel looked at his mother.
Evelyn’s hands were trembling.
He had been away for four days on a construction project in another city. Before leaving, his mother had been tired but alert. Now her movements were slow, and she seemed to struggle to follow simple conversations.
He pushed the pills away from her.
“She isn’t taking anything until I speak to the doctor.”
Vanessa set the water glass down harder than necessary.
“You are not a doctor.”
“Neither are you.”
For one second, the mask slipped.
Anger flashed across Vanessa’s face.
Then she laughed softly and touched Daniel’s shoulder.
“You’re right. I’m only the person who has stayed here caring for her while you work.”
Evelyn looked up.
“You don’t care for me.”
Silence filled the room.
Vanessa slowly turned.
“What did you say?”
Evelyn’s voice became quieter.
“You watch me.”
Daniel frowned.
“Mom?”
“She watches me sleep.”
Vanessa gave a tired sigh.
“This is what I’ve been trying to explain. The confusion is becoming worse.”
“I am not confused.”
“You accused the gardener of stealing your wedding ring.”
“I never accused Thomas.”
“You did yesterday.”
“I haven’t seen Thomas in three weeks.”
Vanessa looked at Daniel with concern arranged perfectly across her face.
“See?”
Daniel wanted to dismiss it as a misunderstanding, but something felt wrong. His mother was not looking at Vanessa with irritation.
She was looking at her with fear.
Daniel moved his chair closer.
“Mom, tell me what happened to your wrist.”
Evelyn glanced toward the doorway.
Vanessa was still standing there.
“I fell,” Evelyn said.
The answer sounded rehearsed.
Daniel followed her gaze and saw Vanessa watching them.
That afternoon, he called Dr. Adrian Cole.
The doctor confirmed that he had increased Evelyn’s medication after Vanessa reported nighttime wandering, paranoia, and aggressive behavior.
“Did you examine my mother?” Daniel asked.
“There was no need. Your wife described the symptoms clearly.”
“You changed an elderly patient’s medication without seeing her?”
“Daniel, Vanessa has been extremely attentive.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Dr. Cole’s tone cooled.
“Your mother’s condition is progressing. Denial will not help her.”
“What condition?”
“Early cognitive decline.”
“According to which test?”
A pause followed.
“We will discuss this at her next appointment.”
“When is that?”
“Next month.”
Daniel ended the call with more questions than answers.
He went upstairs and found his mother sitting beside her bedroom window. An old photograph rested on her lap.
It showed Evelyn as a younger woman standing beside Daniel’s father, Jonathan Mercer. Jonathan had one arm around her shoulders and the other around a dark-haired man Daniel did not recognize.
“Who is he?” Daniel asked.
Evelyn quickly turned the photograph facedown.
“No one.”
“You looked scared when I walked in.”
“I was remembering something.”
“The night Dad died?”
Her expression tightened.
Daniel sat beside her.
“I barely remember him. Sometimes I wonder whether the memories I have are real or just stories people told me.”
Evelyn took his hand.
“Your father loved you.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
“I can’t.”
“You mean you don’t remember?”
“No.” She looked toward the closed bedroom door. “I mean I am not allowed.”
Daniel felt cold despite the sunlight.
“Who told you that?”
Before Evelyn could answer, the door opened.
Vanessa entered carrying fresh towels.
May you like
She saw the photograph on Evelyn’s lap.
For the first time that day, Vanessa looked genuinely frightened.
