Chapter 4 - Grandpa Noticed Mom Was Afraid Of Her Own Tea
After the sunroom incident, Grandpa refused to leave Mom alone in the mansion.
He had his assistants help us move her carefully into a nearby sitting room.
Then he asked for water.
Mom refused.
“Not unless Claire opens it.”
Grandpa looked at me.
I stared at Mom.
“What?”
“Claire opens it.”
Her voice shook.
I got a sealed bottle.
Opened it in front of her.
Only then did she drink.
Grandpa’s expression changed.
“Why?”
Mom looked toward the hallway where Vanessa had been taken to another room.
“She puts things in drinks.”
I felt cold.
“Mom…”
Grandpa held up one hand.
Not to silence her.
To silence me.
“Let her finish.”
That distinction mattered.
Mom continued.
“Not every time. When Daniel is gone.”
“What things?”
“I don’t know.”
“Medicine?”
“Maybe.”
“Did you see her?”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
Mom began crying.
“I don’t know.”
There it was.
The sentence Vanessa had weaponized.
I don’t know.
But Grandpa did not confuse inability to count with inability to remember the event.
He asked:
“Did you see her put something in your drink more than once?”
“Yes.”
“Was it always Vanessa?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
Mom looked at me.
Then Daniel’s empty chair in the next room.
“Yes.”
I wanted the floor to open beneath me.
Because she had.
Again and again.
May you like
And we had taught her that imperfect memory meant silence.
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