Mr. Miller walked up to the bench and handed the papers to the bailiff, who passed them to the judge.

The judge adjusted her reading glasses.

She began to read, her eyes moving rapidly across the lines of print.

The silence in the courtroom returned, heavier than before.

The rain continued to beat against the high glass windows, a steady, low rumble.

I watched Josephine’s face.

Her jaw was set, and her fingers tore a paper tissue into tiny white shreds on her table.

Melanie sat next to her, her face pale, chewing on her lower lip.

The judge looked up from the papers, her expression cold and severe.

“These are the results of the comprehensive blood panels and hair follicle tests run on Sam Sullivan,” the judge said.

Her voice echoed off the wood-paneled walls.

“They indicate high levels of pediatric sedatives in the child’s system during the week he was in the sole custody of Josephine Sullivan.”

A cold shock ran through my body.

I turned to Leo, whose face had gone completely pale, his jaw working silently.