Chapter 2: The Bitter Cup
Eleanor appeared in the doorway, her hand flying to her chest, clutching the lapels of her silk robe. Her face drained of color as she took in the scene: her husband on the floor, cradling their thrashing, crying child.
"Oh no..." Eleanor breathed, her voice trembling. "Not again!"
Leo had struggled with mysterious stomach pains for the past month, a grueling ordeal of doctors' visits and inconclusive tests. It was the very reason they had hired a private, live-in nurse to monitor his diet and medication.
Right on cue, footsteps padded softly down the hall.
Nurse Brenda stepped into the doorway, standing just behind Eleanor. She was a woman in her mid-thirties, her blonde hair pulled back into a severe, immaculate bun. She wore her crisp light blue scrubs, looking entirely unbothered by the screaming child on the floor. In her hands, she held a familiar beige ceramic mug, a small silver spoon resting inside it. Steam rose from the dark liquid.
"I brought his morning hot chocolate," Brenda said, her voice completely devoid of emotion.
At the sight of the nurse, Leo’s thrashing suddenly stopped. A new kind of fear washed over his tear-stained face. He pointed a shaking finger at the woman.
"She put something in it!" Leo cried out, his voice shrill. "She put something in my hot chocolate yesterday, and she tried to make me drink it again!"
Arthur froze, looking from his terrified son to the nurse standing in the doorway. He expected Brenda to look shocked, to drop the mug, or to vehemently deny the wild accusation of an eight-year-old boy in pain.
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Instead, Brenda took a slow, deliberate step into the room. She extended the mug toward Arthur. Her expression was cold, her eyes flat and unreadable.
"Maybe your son isn't lying," Brenda said calmly.
