Page 33 of Property of Bones

“What were you doing before putting your baby to bed?” the doctor asks, calm but focused. “With the concentration we found in your system, the effects would’ve taken about an hour, maybe a little more, to reach that level of severity.”

“We came home after dropping Sunny off at work,” Riley says.

The second she says her name, my heart stutters. Four weeks. Four weeks since I’ve seen her. Since I made the stupid call to stay away. She deserves better. Safer. Someonenotlike me.

“Once we got home, I spent a few hours cleaning the house.”

“Any contact with chemicals? Cleaning agents?” the doctor asks.

“Nothing I haven’t used dozens of times before,” Riley says. “Asher didn’t go down until close to eleven. He took a late nap. I gave him a bath, fed him, and tucked him in. Then I went to bed myself.”

“Did you take any medication? Have a snack?” the doctor presses gently.

“Just the co…” Riley’s eyes go wide. “Oh no. Spike. The cookie.”

My gut clenches. “What cookie?”

“It came with our take-out. They said it was complimentary. Sunny said she’d never gotten one before. I ate mine while I was reading.”

I ask again, harder now. “What cookie, Riley?”

Her voice is trembling. “She gave me one of hers. Said she didn’t want both.”

“Fuck,” Spike snarls.

Riley’s face crumples, fresh tears streaking down her cheeks.

“If someone else ate that same cookie,” Spike quickly asks the doctor, voice like steel on stone, “what would happen if it wasn’t caught in time?”

“That depends,” she says carefully. “On weight, metabolism, opioid sensitivity. But if the person is roughly her size…”

“She is,” Riley says through her tears. “Maybe a little bigger but not much at all.”

““The effects would be similar. And if she’s alone, without medical intervention…” She doesn’t finish.

“The meal was hers,” Riley sobs. “She had two cookies and gave me one. She was going to eat hers after work.”

“Riley,” I growl, my voice cracking with a storm I can’t hold back. I already know what she’s going to say. And I’m not ready.

“Sunny,” she whispers. And just like that, my whole fucking world detonates.

She’s been alone. Forhours.

And I wasn’t there.

“She got off work at nine,” Riley cries. “She could already be dead.”

“Go,” Spike says forcefully when I can’t seem to fucking move.

“Wait,” the doctor says, shoving something into my hands. “Take these. It’s Narcan. Slam one into her thigh and press the button. After two minutes, if she doesn’t respond, give her the second dose.”

I don’t so much as nod. I turn and run.

Chapter Twelve

Sunny

My chest won’t rise right.

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