Chapter 3 - The Medicine Cabinet
Tessa did not tell Judith about the note.
Instead, she carried it to Noah’s room after school.
He was sitting at his desk repairing an old camera when she entered.
“Did you put this in the wooden bird?”
Noah read the message.
His face drained of color.
“No.”
“Did you remove your birthday card?”
“No. I haven’t touched the bird since I gave it to you.”
“Could someone else know about the compartment?”
“My mom did.”
Tessa sat beside him.
“Your grandmother said Caroline made one like it.”
“She did. It’s in the attic.”
“Have you seen it?”
“Once. Grandma took it away.”
Noah turned the note over.
“The handwriting looks familiar.”
“Whose?”
“I don’t know.”
He photographed it with his phone.
Tessa touched his arm.
“Do not confront your grandmother.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were already planning it.”
Noah looked toward the door.
“She searches things.”
“What things?”
“My backpack. My drawers. Sometimes my phone.”
“Since when?”
“Since she moved in.”
Judith had been in the house for four days.
Tessa felt a chill despite the sunlight through the bedroom window.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you knew.”
That evening, Tessa locked her bedroom door before calling Bryce.
He did not answer.
She tried again twenty minutes later.
A recorded message said the number was unavailable.
When she checked her email, she found a new message from Bryce’s account.
Meetings running late. Don’t wait up. Mom says you have been anxious. Please listen to her.
Tessa stared at the words.
Bryce never wrote Don’t wait up when he traveled.
He wrote Go to sleep without me.
The difference was small enough that no one else would notice.
Tessa did.
She replied with a question only Bryce would understand.
Did you ever replace the blue umbrella?
The blue umbrella had been an old private joke. On their first date, Bryce had borrowed one from a restaurant and accidentally taken it home. For years, they had argued about whether that counted as theft.
An hour later, a response arrived.
Yes. I bought a new one last year.
Tessa closed the laptop.
There had never been a blue umbrella.
It had been red.
Someone else was answering his messages.
She went downstairs and found Judith at the kitchen table.
“Are you communicating with Bryce through his accounts?”
Judith did not look up from her book.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because someone is.”
“Perhaps your confusion is getting worse.”
“I am not confused.”
“You forgot the appointment yesterday.”
“I never agreed to an appointment.”
Judith closed the book.
“Dr. Morrow came here at ten. You remained in your room.”
“No doctor came here.”
“The staff saw him.”
“The staff wasn’t here yesterday.”
Judith’s smile returned.
“You sent them home.”
Tessa stepped away from the table.
For the first time, she understood that the danger was not simply that Judith was lying.
The danger was that Judith was building a version of reality around her.
A version supported by witnesses, messages and records Tessa had never created.
The next morning, Tessa called her physician from the landline.
The receptionist sounded surprised.
“Mrs. Vale, we were told you had transferred your care.”
“Transferred it where?”
“To Dr. Samuel Morrow.”
“I have never met him.”
“Our records include your signed authorization.”
“Email it to me.”
“It was submitted by your medical representative.”
“My representative is my husband.”
The receptionist paused.
“Our document lists Judith Vale.”
Tessa hung up and went directly to the medicine cabinet.
Her prescription bottles were arranged in a neat row.
At first, everything looked normal.
Then she noticed that the label on one bottle had been replaced.
The medication name was correct, but the pharmacy address was not.
She opened the bottle.
The tablets inside were a different shape from the ones she had taken for months.
Tessa placed the bottle in a plastic bag and hid it in Noah’s old camera case.
When she returned downstairs, Judith was waiting at the bottom of the staircase.
“You missed your morning dose,” Judith said.
“I’m not taking anything until I speak to my doctor.”
“Your doctor prescribed it.”
“My doctor has never seen that bottle.”
Judith moved closer.
“You are becoming paranoid.”
“And you are becoming careless.”
For a moment, neither woman spoke.
Then Judith’s eyes shifted toward the hallway.
Noah stood behind the corner, holding his repaired camera.
Its small red light was blinking.
Judith noticed it.
“What are you recording?” she asked.
Noah lowered the camera.
“Nothing.”
Judith crossed the distance between them and took it from his hands.
She removed the memory card.
Then she snapped it in half.
“You should respect people’s privacy,” she said.
Noah stared at the broken card.
Tessa saw anger building in his face.
But beneath the anger was something else.
Relief.
Later, when Judith left the room, Noah opened his empty palm.
May you like
A second memory card rested against his skin.
“She broke the wrong one,” he whispered.
