Her Silent Revenge novel Chapter 118

"Why? Because she doesn't know Arlo's mine?" I shake her off. Now isn't the time and place to argue about that, but I can't just sit here and wait. "This is bullshit, Salem, and you know it. You need support, and I need answers."

This is the worst time in my existence to start an argument, but if I stay here, I'm going to go insane. "Listen, I can't just sit around and do nothing."

"Staying with me isn't nothing." She takes my hand, her fingers so tight. "Please, Patton. Stay."

God fucking damn.

If they were with Mom, that means there's something at the house. Whatever happened wasn't deliberate, I'm sure, but the sooner we figure it out, the faster we can fix this.

If something nasty jumps out and I can just tell the doctors—

Hell, maybe there's an antidote or something if I can just find out what caused this.

"I need to go," I say, "and I need you to understand."

"I don't understand. He didn't go near anything poisonous."

Clearly, he did if he was poisoned. My jaw tightens as I hold in a hundred stinging emotions I can't release. Not without making this worse.

She stares at me, her long eyelashes clumped and her mouth quivering. I don't know what any of this means for our relationship if I walk out right now.

But I can't stay while my son's life is on the line and we're fighting in the dark.

I hate that she doesn't want me to find out what happened. "Call me," I say, turning on my heel.

She doesn't say anything at all after that, and though I'm glad she's not trying to stand in my way, it feels like she's giving up.

The darkest day of my life dims a little more and it's not even evening yet.

So I just climb back in my vehicle, which is miraculously still where I left it without a ticket on the windshield, and set off for Mom's.

Mom looks just as shell shocked as I thought she'd be. "What do you mean, poisoned?"

"I mean poisoned-poisoned, Mom." I rifle through the cupboards in the kitchen, tossing everything on the counter in frantic handfuls. "He's in the hospital now."

"But I don't understand." Her hands flutter helplessly and she loosens the scarf around her neck. "What could he have eaten?"

"Don't know, Mom. But it must've happened here."

Unless it was at her apartment, but a poison this violent would probably be too fast-acting for that. They were here for a while. The ones that hit your system and make you vomit up your lungs generally aren't slow and creeping.

"What else did he drink? Water?" I demand.

"Just the orange juice. I'm sure of it. The same brand I had for breakfast, that fresh-squeezed stuff they sell down at the river market, and I'm fine." She breathes roughly, her eyes closing as she shakes her head. "I just don't get this. I need a moment, Patton. I just need some air, I need…"

She trails off. We both know she doesn't have to say it.

She needs the same thing we all do—for Arlo to be okay. For the millionth time, I hate this shit.

The front door slams hard enough to rattle the house then. I look up.

Footsteps come thumping down the hall. There's only one person I know with that angry elephant walk.

Archer. He has this way of stomping around like he wants his feelings to reach the center of the earth.

"Goddamn," he grumbles when he sees me in the kitchen. I open the fridge to find the orange juice, almost empty now. "Been a real bastard of a day. First Colt stayed up too late playing his Xbox after I told him twice to get the hell to bed. Then the traffic, taking Evelyn to the airport—Christ. I was stuck listening to her sob story for almost an hour."

I'm barely listening, too busy sniffing the open juice carton. Smells like orange. Everything seems normal.

But a second later, as I turn to him, his words sink in. "What sob story, Arch?"