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Ingrid is holding a tray with a plate of breakfast. With a brow raised, her gaze travels down my body in obvious suspicion. When her eyes meet mine and nods curtly, pushing the tray into my hands.
“Make sure she eats.” With that, she saunters down the hallway.
I kick the door shut with my foot and then take the tray to Emily.
She lightly scrunches her nose before masking her reaction. Trying to get Emily to eat is like pulling teeth. She knows she needs it, but she’ll eat as little as possible and then say she’s full.
“Don’t make that face,” I scold playfully.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You only just woke up; you need to eat.”
I gesture with my chin for Emily to sit against the headboard and then set it on her lap.
“I’m really not hungry. I need to talk to you about something important though.”
I tilt my head, brows furrowing.
“What about?”
Pursing her lips, she stares into my eyes. “I need that medication you threw out.”
My body tenses and my jaw clenches. Despite her features being blank, her eyes are pleading.
“I can’t sleep without them, Liam. I haven’t had a nightmare like that since I started taking them.”
“Emily, you were relying on that medication far too much. From what I saw under the sink, you weren’t exactly taking them like you were supposed to.”
Her eyes immediately fall to the tray.
“I’ll do better,” she mutters, pushing her utensils around with her forefinger.
As much as I’d like to trust her, I can’t. Being a part of this world, I’ve seen my fair share of what happens when you don’t take prescription medication as intended.
Addiction is a disease. It happens swiftly and silently. Slithering its way through every intertwined fiber of your DNA until it’s too late.
Peering down at her, I lick my lips, trying to formulate a way to make her understand that what she’s doing isn’t safe.
“What would your doctor say about how you’ve been taking your meds, Em?”
Even with her head down, I can see the grimace that flashes over her face.
“Call her.”
Her head whips up to me.
“Call who? Dr. Morrison?” She sputters.
I nod, picking up her phone off the nightstand and handing it to her. If she won’t listen to me, then maybe speaking to a medical professional will help.
She nibbles on her lip as she stares down at the black screen. Her fingers are trembling but I’m not sure if it’s from the beginning of withdrawal or nervousness of having to call her doctor.
With a sigh, Emily unlocks her phone and dials Dr. Morrison.
“Emily, hi. Is everything okay?” Dr. Morrison says when she answers the phone.
“Hi, Dr. Morrison. I was calling because I have a little issue that I need to talk to you about.”
