Rhys took nothing.

I had never, ever given anyone permission to give my child so much as a cough drop.

Two hours later a doctor came out to find me.

He told me, carefully, that Rhys had been given a powerful sedative, and that it had dangerously slowed his breathing and his heart.

He named it as a poisoning, plainly, the way a doctor has to — and he did not put the details of it in the corridor air, because, he said, that kind of specificity belonged in the toxicology report and nowhere else.

What he told me was the only thing I needed.