My Mother Made Me Serve Drinks At My Brother’s Wedding

screening. A blood sample. My eyes scanned the columns of medical jargon until one line jumped out.

Digoxin levels: “Critically elevated. Inconsistent with prescribed dosage.”

Digoxin. His heart medication. My mother had been in charge of giving it to him every morning.

My hands started to shake. I opened the notebook. It was a diary of sorts. My father continue reading …