“Phenobarbital,” I said. “What exactly does it do to someone who takes it regularly?”
David leaned forward, resting his forearms on the black rubber counter mat.
“It is a strong sedative, mostly used for seizures these days,” he said. “In older adults, even a small dose can cause extreme lethargy and confusion.”
“Confusion?” I asked.
“It mimics cognitive decline,” he said. “Slows down the central nervous system, makes simple tasks feel like climbing a mountain.”
“And if someone did not know they were taking it?”
David frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Why would they not know?” he asked.
“I was just reading an article,” I said, smoothing the front of my wool skirt. “It made me curious.”
“Well, it is highly regulated,” David said. “Not the kind of pill you want to play around with.”
I thanked him and walked back to the car, my hands cold against the steering wheel.
At eight that evening, the hum of the old refrigerator seemed louder than usual in the quiet kitchen.
Arthur stood by the stove, waiting for the kettle to whistle.
