The doctor turned one of the papers toward me.
“We found a very small amount of medication in the sample.”
I stopped breathing.
“This is not poison,” he continued. “It appears to be an older type of medication that was once
used for certain seizure-related or heart-rhythm conditions. The amount is very small.”
I stared at him.
“So George has been… giving me medicine?”
Dr. Harris nodded.
“That appears to be the case. But that does not mean giving someone medication without properly discussing it with them is acceptable. You need to speak with him and confirm the history with your doctor.”
I drove home with shaking hands.
George was sitting in the kitchen.
There was an old wooden box on the table in front of him.
The moment he saw my face, he knew.
“You took it somewhere, didn’t you?”
I placed the small container on the table.
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