The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 53

Half an hour later.

The black Maybach rolled over the puddles and parked outside Evergreen Memorial Park. Holding an umbrella, Garrison Foster walked slowly into the grounds, eventually stopping before a pristine white headstone.

The space in front of the grave was empty. Only the flattened, wet grass suggested someone had recently been there.

Garrison's heart sank. He scanned his surroundings, but the relentless rain only blurred his vision.

Just then, at the edge of the dark moss, a speck of stark white caught his eye.

Garrison stepped closer and crouched down. It was a pill.

A pill?

He bent to pick up the small white tablet. It was slightly swollen from the rain, its edges beginning to dissolve. It had no markings, no distinct shape. He brought it to his nose, but it had no discernible scent.

Yet, his instinct as a doctor told him this was no ordinary medication. It looked like... some kind of painkiller?

Suddenly, he remembered the white pill bottle sitting on Sloane's nightstand that morning. Was she taking medication? What kind of condition required these pills? And why would one be dropped here?

Garrison frowned. Silently, he carefully wrapped the damp pill in his handkerchief and slipped it into his pocket.

*

A few days later, in a coach's office at the Metropolitan Aquatics Center.

"Think about it again? You're the most experienced polar diver we have..." Quentin Hayes gripped the phone, his knuckles turning white, a trace of desperation in his voice.

An apologetic tone drifted through the receiver. "Coach, it's not that I don't want to help, but my wife is pregnant, and my mom's health isn't great. I really can't leave for six months right now..."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify