Every Evening, My Husband Tipped Two Drops From a Small Dark Glass Bottle Into My Tea
“I had the manager lock down every account connected to your name until we figure out who has your debit card,” he said.
“That was my money,” I said.
“My retirement account from forty years of teaching.”
Daniel put the car keys into his own vest pocket.
“We can’t risk your savings, Margaret, especially not with your memory slipping the way it has been.”
He offered his hand to help me out of the car, but I stepped past him onto the pavement without taking it.
The front door locked behind us with a sharp click that echoed down the long glass hallway.
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