Chapter 3 - WHAT WAS IN MY BLOOD
They had.
Standard trauma testing hadn't included everything.
But blood collected when I arrived had been retained.
My physician ordered additional analysis because of the medication discrepancy and my reported symptoms.
Nobody promised answers overnight.
This wasn't television.
The sample went to the lab.
We waited.
Julian texted fourteen times.
I'm sorry.
You're misunderstanding this.
Emily is putting ideas in your head.
We need to talk without strangers involved.
Then:
Don't destroy our marriage over paperwork.
I didn't answer.
Instead, I called my older sister, Rachel.
She lived forty minutes away in Concord.
I had hidden the worst parts of my marriage from her.
Not bruises.
Julian had never hit me before that morning.
He did something easier to explain away.
Controlled accounts.
Questioned purchases.
Corrected my memories.
Made me feel irresponsible whenever I disagreed.
Rachel arrived carrying my phone charger and a face that told me she knew I hadn't called because everything was fine.
“What happened?”
I showed her the yellow envelope.
She read it.
Then looked at me.
“Audrey.”
“I know.”
“No. You don't.”
“What?”
“Julian asked me about your medications two months ago.”
I went cold.
“What did he ask?”
“Whether you'd ever taken sleeping pills.”
“Why?”
“He said you were having problems.”
“I wasn't.”
Rachel sat down.
“He also asked if Mom had addiction issues.”
Our mother had died eight years earlier.
No addiction history.
“Why would he ask that?”
Rachel didn't know.
The lab results came the next afternoon.
Zolpidem.
Present in my blood at a concentration consistent with recent ingestion.
I stared at the report.
“I didn't take it.”
My doctor nodded.
“I understand.”
“I didn't.”
Rachel squeezed my hand.
I remembered breakfast.
Toast.
Coffee.
Julian standing at the kitchen island.
My travel mug.
But memory wasn't evidence.
The hospital social worker helped me create a safety plan.
Julian's visitation privileges were restricted at my request.
He protested through phone calls.
Then through texts.
Finally through an attorney.
That surprised everyone.
His attorney emailed me less than twenty-four hours later.
The subject:
MARITAL PROPERTY AND MEDICAL DECISION-MAKING.
Rachel read it.
“He already has a lawyer?”
Apparently.
The letter warned me not to “remove, conceal, transfer, or dissipate marital assets” while I was hospitalized.
I almost laughed.
“I can't walk.”
Rachel didn't.
“Why is he worried about money right now?”
Good question.
I opened our joint banking app.
Password rejected.
Tried again.
Rejected.
Our credentials had been changed.
I checked our investment account.
Same thing.
Then my email showed an automated alert from our mortgage lender.
A home-equity line had been accessed.
$185,000.
Drawn three days after my accident.
May you like
While I was unconscious after surgery.
And according to the electronic authorization attached to the transaction, I had approved it myself.
