She didn’t ask another question.
She simply wrote something on the form.
Then she told me the results would take several days.
I left feeling ridiculous.
Maybe I was overreacting.
Maybe Victor had been telling the truth all along.
Maybe it really was just some harmless family recipe.
But three days later, my phone rang.
It was the laboratory.
“Mrs. Carter?”
“Yes?”
“We’d like you to come in.”
“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
There was a pause.
“We would prefer to explain the results in person.”
My stomach tightened.
“Is it dangerous?”
Another pause.
“Please come in.”
I drove there with both hands gripping the steering wheel.
Emily came with me.
I hadn’t told her everything.
Only that I had discovered something strange about the drink her father had prepared for me for years.
She was fascinated.
“You finally decided to investigate Dad?”
“I think so.”
She smiled.
“He’s been hiding something since I was sixteen.”
“I know.”
We entered the laboratory together.
A specialist was waiting for us.
He placed several documents on the table.
“Mrs. Carter, before we begin, I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“How long exactly have you been consuming this preparation?”
“About thirty-five years.”
