Chapter 4 - THE SECOND DOSE
“Don't give her anything until her doctor reviews these instructions.”
Maren spoke more firmly than she intended.
Mrs. Pike stared at the medication chart.
“Miss Ashby, you cannot change a child's prescription.”
“I'm not changing it. I'm asking for a qualified doctor to check why these two instructions disagree.”
The distinction mattered.
And Mrs. Pike knew it.
For thirty-two years, she had managed the Castellane household with absolute loyalty.
She had served Adrian's father.
She had held Adrian as an infant.
And she had watched Iris grow from a laughing toddler into a frightened little girl who sometimes slept through dinner.
“I should have questioned this months ago,” the housekeeper whispered.
“Then question it now.”
Mrs. Pike reached for the telephone connected to the study.
Before she could lift it, Celia appeared.
“What are you doing?”
Maren stepped away from the cabinet.
“Checking a discrepancy in Iris's medication instructions.”
Celia's gaze moved to the open blue bottle.
“You had no permission to touch that.”
“I haven't touched the medicine.”
“You are a companion, not a nurse.”
“That's why I want a doctor to review it.”
Celia turned to Mrs. Pike.
“Close the cabinet.”
The older woman hesitated.
It was a small hesitation.
But Celia noticed.
“Mrs. Pike?”
“I think Mr. Castellane should see the instructions,” she said.
Celia's expression hardened.
“Then perhaps both of you should explain why you're interfering with a five-year-old's medical care.”
Adrian arrived minutes later.
He listened as Maren described the discrepancy.
Then he examined the bottle and chart himself.
“Who authorized the second dose?”
Celia answered immediately.
“Dr. Voss's office.”
“Then we'll confirm it.”
Adrian contacted the medical service responsible for Iris's prescriptions.
A nurse checked the current records.
She could confirm the original dose.
She could not find authorization for the additional one.
Adrian's face went still.
“Arrange an independent medication review,” he instructed. “Until then, a qualified clinician will supervise her care.”
Celia looked wounded.
“You think I would deliberately hurt Iris?”
“No,” Adrian replied. “I think I should have asked more questions.”
For a moment, Maren believed the worst part was over.
Then Celia placed a tablet on the desk.
“Perhaps you should watch this before deciding whom to trust.”
The screen showed Maren entering the medication room.
She opened the cabinet.
She examined a bottle.
Then she returned it.
The camera angle concealed the label and everything else she had been comparing.
Celia paused the recording.
“A newly hired companion. Alone with your daughter's prescriptions.”
“I was checking the dosage,” Maren said.
“That's what Tess claimed, too.”
The words struck like a slap.
Maren took one step forward.
“Don't use my sister's name to frighten me.”
Adrian moved between them.
“Enough.”
Celia's eyes filled with tears.
“I've spent eight months caring for Iris while you buried yourself in business, Adrian. I've canceled trips, rearranged specialists, and sat beside her through nights when she cried.”
Her voice trembled.
“And now a woman who's worked here four months is telling you I've been hurting her.”
Maren saw something she hadn't expected.
Celia's grief was real.
So was her fear.
But neither explained the changed instructions.
Adrian looked at Maren.
“Until the review is complete, you won't enter Iris's room without Mrs. Pike present.”
Maren went pale.
“She's going to think I abandoned her.”
“I'll explain.”
“You weren't there when she asked whether hands could dance.”
His jaw tightened.
“And you weren't there for the eight months before that.”
The words landed hard.
Adrian regretted them immediately.
But Maren had already turned away.
That evening, Iris refused her favorite storybook.
“Where's Maren?”
Adrian sat beside her.
“She's helping us sort something out.”
“Is she in trouble?”
“No.”
“Then why can't she come?”
He had no good answer.
Downstairs, Mrs. Pike stood alone in the pantry.
She was searching through old household records when a folded sheet slipped from a binder.
It was a medication administration record from five months earlier.
The signature at the bottom read:
Tess Ashby.
Mrs. Pike checked the date.
Then checked it again.
Her hands began shaking.
Because the form claimed Tess had authorized Iris's evening medication change eleven days after Tess had been buried.
May you like
Mrs. Pike carried the document straight to Adrian.
“Sir,” she whispered, “someone has been using a dead woman's name.”
