“Mariela,” he said quietly, “I’m going to ask you one question. Has anyone besides you had unsupervised access to Emma’s food, drinks, or medicine during the last three weeks?”
I looked at Emma.
Then at the orange bottle on the counter.
Then back at the window.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Diane.”
“And this Diane is the woman outside?”
“Yes.”
“Your mother-in-law?”
“Yes.”
He nodded to the nurse.
“Lock the exam area door.”
The nurse moved immediately.
My phone began vibrating again.
Andrés.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Then the pounding started.
Not on the exam room door.
On the clinic entrance.
