Quiet in Her Bones Singh, Nalini (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) 📖

He gave the nurses a look and the two men melted away. “Mrs. Liu,” he said, “if I could have a few minutes with Aarav.”

“Oh, of course.” Diana patted my hand, her touch soft and warm. “I’ll be right outside, honey.”

It was only when Dr. Binchy shut the door behind her that it dawned on me: though I was in a public hospital, I had a room to myself. “What’s wrong with me that I merit a solo room?”

Dr. Binchy’s lips kicked up for a second. “No sinister ­reason—­you just got lucky.” He sat down in the chair Diana had just vacated. “We have to talk.”

Great big knots up my spine. “Give it to me straight.”

“The hospital ran a full blood panel when you were brought in, and to put it ­bluntly—­the level and variety of meds in your blood is a ­shit-­show.” He pinned me with a grim gaze. “You’re overdosing on some, not taking others, and your body can’t deal.”

I had nothing to say to that. I knew full well I hadn’t been taking my meds properly. Hadn’t thought I was overdosing on ­anything … but that migraine medication hadn’t disappeared by itself. “It’s been a weird week,” I said at last.

Taking off his ­black-­framed specs, Dr. Binchy pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re beyond pat words, Aarav. Mrs. Liu is very loyal to you, but I managed to impress on her that I needed a full picture of your mental health.”

My abdomen grew hard.

“She finally told me that she invited you over for coffee yesterday”—­a glance at his ­watch—­“no, it’ll be two days ago now. You realize it’s after midnight?”

“I figured. Diana said I’d been out for a couple of hours.” I licked my dry lips. “What did she tell you?”

He slid his glasses back on, the hazel of his eyes acutely penetrating. “That you repeatedly asked her the same question, seeming to forget the answer every time.”

My hands dug into the sheets.

I remembered having coffee and cake with Diana, remembered looking at photographs, but I didn’t remember that. “What question?”

“Pardon?”

“What question did I ask her?”

“Oh.” Scratching at his jaw, he leaned back in his chair. “You kept asking her about a neighbor called Alice, and if Diana ­knew—­but she never worked out what you were referring to.”

No. NO. I wouldn’t have run my mouth like that.

This was bullshit.

“I never asked that question.”

Legs sprawled out in apparent ease, Dr. Binchy stared at me. “When was the last time you sent me an email?”

“I dunno. A couple of weeks ago.”

“You’ve sent me multiple emails in the past ­forty-­eight hours.” Reaching into the folder he’d carried into the hospital room, Dr. Binchy picked up a piece of paper and passed it across. In the sender field was the name Aarav Rai, but it was linked to an email address I’d never used.

The subject was:

Investigation.

The text was short:

I think my father killed my mother. He hated her and he’s a bastard. I just need to catch him out.

Below that was another message with the same subject header, but this time, the text was focused on Hemi:

He did it. I know it. Smug, pompous ass who pretends to be ­holier-­than-­thou while cheating regularly on his wife. It was him.

The third message was cut off on the printout, but it seemed to blame Elei for everything.

Face flushed, I thrust the page back at the doctor. “That’s not my email address.” Having spotted my phone on a nearby table, I picked it up and brought up my inbox. “This is my email address.”

Dr. Binchy pressed his lips together. “You realize that if you’ve forgotten an entire conversation with another person, you’re fully capable of forgetting the act of setting up an email account.”

Skin burning now, I put down the phone. “Have you talked to anyone else?”

“Mrs. Liu informed your stepmother you were in hospital, and I followed up to assure her you were fine.”

Yeah, I guess Shanti was technically my stepmother. “What did she say?”

“She was thankful for the update as she’s been a bit worried about you. Apparently, you haven’t been your usual self.”

“They just found my mother’s bones in a car in the bush.”

“You haven’t been eating much, either. Shanti says you run on Coke and sweets.”

“So? Bad habits happen when I’m on deadline.”

“Do you also happen to sleepwalk to your sister’s bedroom doorway and stand there?” I’d never noticed how bushy his eyebrows were until this instant, when he raised both. “Thankfully, your sister wasn’t scared. She figured out what was happening because she once saw it on a TV show, and just led you back to your bedroom. Smart kid.”

Pari didn’t lie. And she didn’t make up stories.

I was the storyteller in the family. The professional liar.

My foot twinged, reminding me of another nocturnal walk, another memory blank.

“Your stepmother also hesitantly confessed something else when she realized who I was.” Dr. Binchy closed the file, dropped it onto his lap. “According to her, a neighbor’s seen you wandering about ­half-­naked at night.”

Anastasia wouldn’t have spilled the beans. Had to have been Elei. Always watching.

“Are you saying I’m sleepwalking every night?”

“The implication was that it was a regular occurrence.” Dr. Binchy took off his glasses again, began to use the edge of his sweatshirt to wipe the lenses. “It’s probably because you’re playing fast and loose with your meds.”

Jaw grinding, I picked up my phone again and forwarded him the file I’d sent Gigi. “You read what I’ve been ­writing—­that’s not the work of someone with a fucked-­up brain.”

“The brain is an interesting organ. It could be that some parts of you are working with brilliance, while others are failing.” He held his glasses by one of the stems. “You need to be under constant neurological care until we’ve stabilized the levels of medication in your system. We also need to monitor your brain trauma more closely.”

“Not a chance, Doc.” No one was going to keep me from finishing what I’d started.

“I thought you’d say