Chapter 3 - The Wrong Dose
By sunset, the estate had become a theater set for a marriage no one seemed interested in discussing honestly. Florists moved through the entrance hall carrying white roses by the armful. A string quartet rehearsed in the ballroom because Camille wanted to hear how the acoustics would sound before approving them. Two event planners argued in whispers near a marble staircase about candles, linens, and the exact shade of ivory that would photograph best beneath chandeliers imported from Vienna. Everywhere Adeline looked, people were preparing for a celebration. Everywhere Nico looked, he seemed to see a trap being decorated.
They agreed on one rule before dinner: no accusations until they had facts. It lasted less than an hour. Adeline called Dr. Samuel Patel, the rehabilitation specialist who had supervised Nico’s inpatient recovery, using the secure number in his chart. She did not mention Camille’s text. She simply reviewed Nico’s current prescriptions and asked whether any injectable medication had been added in the previous month. Patel checked the records while she waited.
“No,” he said. “And I discontinued routine injections six weeks ago. I left one rescue medication available for severe spastic episodes, but only if oral medication failed. Has something happened?” Adeline looked through the open doorway toward Nico, who sat at his desk reading the River North contract for the third time.
“Not yet,” she said. Patel heard the hesitation. “Adeline.” “I found an inventory discrepancy. I’m documenting it now.” “Then lock the medication cabinet and notify whoever controls security in that house.” Adeline almost laughed. The problem was that she no longer knew who controlled anything in that house.
After the call, she moved every medication into a portable locking case and carried it with her. Nico objected until she informed him that his opinion had been noted and overruled. He objected again. She ignored him more efficiently the second time.
At eight, dinner was served in a small formal room overlooking the lake. “Small,” in the Alfieri vocabulary, meant a table for fourteen with only five people seated around it: Nico, Camille, Dominic, Adeline, and Nico’s aunt Teresa, an elegant seventy-year-old widow who had ruled family holidays for four decades and had the unsettling habit of noticing everything while appearing interested in nothing.
Adeline normally ate with staff, but Nico insisted she remain because of his evening therapy schedule. Camille made no effort to conceal her displeasure. “How intimate,” Camille said as Adeline took the farthest chair. “Perhaps tomorrow the gardener can join us.”
Teresa lifted her wineglass. “Only if he promises better conversation.” Dominic covered a smile with his napkin. Camille’s expression hardened. Nico said nothing. He was studying the soup placed before him. Adeline noticed first because nurses notice patterns. Nico always salted soup before tasting it. Tonight he raised the spoon, paused, and looked at her.
She crossed the room and smelled the bowl. Camille gave an incredulous laugh. “What exactly are you doing?” “Checking his food.” “For what? Excessive parsley?” Nico set down the spoon. “She’s doing her job.” Camille leaned back in her chair. “Your job has expanded considerably, Ms. Marsh.”
Adeline dipped a clean testing strip into the broth. It was not a laboratory instrument and could not identify every medication, but the strip was designed to detect several common sedatives used in home-care emergencies. Within seconds, the indicator changed.
Adeline’s pulse accelerated. “Don’t eat it,” she said. The room went quiet. Dominic’s fork stopped halfway to his mouth. Teresa’s eyes sharpened. Camille stared at Adeline. “Excuse me?” Adeline placed the strip on a white saucer. “There is a sedating compound in his soup.”
“That’s absurd.” Nico’s face became still in the dangerous way Adeline had come to recognize. “Whose kitchen sent this?” “The same kitchen that sent everyone’s,” Dominic said quickly. Adeline tested Camille’s bowl, then Dominic’s, then Teresa’s.
Negative. Negative. Negative. Only Nico’s soup reacted. A housekeeper was summoned, followed by the chef. The tray had been plated in the kitchen and carried through the service hall by one of the evening staff. The server swore no one had touched it. Security footage from the kitchen showed nothing obvious because the final six feet of the service corridor fell outside the camera angle.
“Convenient,” Nico said. Camille rose from the table, furious now rather than elegant. “This is hysteria. That little strip could be reacting to anything.” “It could,” Adeline said. “So we’ll preserve the sample and send it to a lab.”
Camille looked at Nico. “Are you seriously allowing an employee to turn dinner into a criminal investigation?” Nico’s reply was quiet. “Someone put something in my food.” “You don’t know that.” “I know no one else’s bowl tested positive.”
Dominic intervened with both palms raised. “Everyone needs to stop. We send the sample out, replace the staff on this wing until we know more, and nobody makes accusations that can’t be taken back.” Aunt Teresa looked at him over the rim of her glass. “You sound like a lawyer.”
“I’m trying to prevent a family war over soup.” “No,” Teresa said. “You’re trying to prevent one before you know which side you’re on.” Dominic’s jaw tightened. Dinner ended. Later, in Nico’s suite, Adeline checked his vitals twice. He was physically stable, but anger kept his pulse elevated. He rolled toward the windows and watched the city glow beyond the dark line of trees.
“My father used to say betrayal is never the knife,” he said. “It’s the hand you recognize holding it.” Adeline closed her kit. “Your father sounds cheerful.” “He was a terrible dinner guest.” “Did he trust Dominic?”
Nico took a long moment before answering. “More than he trusted me, sometimes.” That surprised her. Nico turned the wheelchair slightly. “I was the oldest. I got the expectations. Dominic got the forgiveness. When our father died, the board chose me to run the legitimate companies because I was better at making hard decisions. Dominic never complained.”
“People can resent things they never complain about.” Nico gave her a faint smile. “Is that nursing theory?” “That’s being raised by a mother who could say ‘I’m fine’ in six different ways, none of which meant fine.”
The mention of family changed something in Adeline’s expression. Nico noticed. “What was the call earlier?” She shook her head. “Not relevant.” “Adeline.” It was the first time that day he used her first name without sarcasm.
She exhaled and sat in the chair opposite him. “My brother is seven. His name is Wes. He was born with a heart defect. He needs a complicated surgery in Boston, and a slot opened sooner than expected.”
Nico’s eyes shifted toward her. “How much?” “No.” “I asked how much.” “And I said no.” “You didn’t.” “I’m saying it now.” He frowned. “You’re working in this madhouse because you need money for your brother’s heart surgery.”
“I’m working here because I’m a nurse.” “You’re risking your safety for a paycheck.” “Most people work for one.” “Not with poisoned soup.” Adeline stood. “Do not make my brother a transaction, Nico.” The use of his name stopped him.
She continued, softer. “I know what people think when they hear you have money. They think money is permission to solve them. Wes is not something to solve. He’s my family. I made him a promise that I would get him to Boston, and I intend to keep it myself.”
Nico watched her for several seconds. Then he nodded once. “Understood.” She was almost disappointed by how easily he accepted the boundary. At midnight, she completed one final medication check. Nico took only what Dr. Patel had confirmed. No injections. No sleep aid. He transferred into bed with minimal assistance and, for the first time in weeks, said good night without an argument.
Adeline locked the medication case and carried it to the adjoining room where she slept during overnight shifts. At 2:17 a.m., she woke to the soft metallic sound of a door handle turning. She sat up.
May you like
The hallway light slipped beneath her door. Someone moved silently through Nico’s suite. Adeline opened the bedside drawer and reached not for a weapon, but for the emergency alarm connected to estate security. She pressed it once, then stepped into the hall. A figure in dark clothing was standing beside Nico’s bed. The person turned. For one instant, Adeline saw a gloved hand holding a syringe. Then the lights went out.
========================================================================
