“But she was hiding the medicine.”

“She was watching Megan get weaker and weaker.”

“Jake, don’t be ridiculous,” my mother said, her voice remaining eerily calm.

“I was keeping them safe.”

“Megan is unstable.”

“She is forgetful.”

“I didn’t want her taking too many.”

“You’re a liar,” I shouted.

“Sir, please keep your distance,” the officer cautioned me.

The paramedics were now wheeling Megan down the stairs of our building.

The heavy front door clicked shut downstairs, the sound echoing up the stairwell.

I knew I had to go with her, but I was transfixed by the sheer lack of remorse on my mother’s face.

She looked at the plastic baggie on the counter as if it were nothing but a minor inconvenience.

“This is a serious offense, ma’am,” the officer said, reaching for his handcuffs.

“You’re going to have to come with us.”

My mother’s gaze drifted from the officer’s face back to me.

She didn’t look afraid.

She didn’t look angry.

Instead, a slow, cold smile began to form at the corners of her mouth.

It was a smile that sent a shiver straight down my spine.