When she entered the large room, she saw that Kathleen, the cook, and two maids were helping clean away the dishes from the earlier dinner. Trying to calm herself down before what she knew would be a huge confrontation, she took three deep breaths to relax. She wasn’t afraid of confrontation, but she’d always chosen to avoid them when possible. Seeing Dante lying on the bed, too weak from the pain pills to even lift his eyelids, had angered her. He’d been making great physical progress in the last few days. His moods were still bad enough that earlier that afternoon he’d thrown a whole tray across the room, shattering the picture of him and his sister on the dresser. Then he’d yelled for her to get out so loudly she’d heard the windows vibrate. When she’d found him drugged, laying on the bed almost unresponsive, she’d rushed to the restroom and counted his medication. Seeing that four pills were missing, she knew immediately who’d given them to him.
