I rested my palms on the laminate dresser and squeezed my left wrist with my right hand until the bone throbbed.

Dr.

Wallace wasn’t giving Raymond medicine to help a failing heart.

He was injecting a paralyzing drug that trapped Raymond inside his own motionless body every single afternoon.

That was why Dr.

Wallace always put the empty glass ampoules into his heavy black leather briefcase before leaving the master suite.

If he threw them into the yellow biohazard bin in the bathroom, any visiting nurse or inspector would see what he was putting into the line.

I closed the laptop, wrapped Theodore in his blue wool blanket, and held him against my chest until the nursery radiator clunked off at two in the morning.