Forty-Eight Hours
I was outside a glass panel on the fourth floor and Detective Ibarra came up at about two in the morning and asked me to sit down, and I said I would rather stand, and she said she would rather I sat down.
What they found, on the return, in the order it is listed:
In a bathroom cabinet on the second floor, four prescription bottles.
Two of them in Sophia’s name, prescribed by Sergio Reyes, for conditions my daughter has never had.
Two of them in the name of a patient at his clinic who has since been interviewed and who has never met any of these people.
In the kitchen, a printed dosing schedule, handwritten annotations, seven days of columns.