“Are you drinking my Ensure?”

Lassa often sprang questions on Freya like this, point blank when her mind was a thousand miles away. The idea was Freya would just blurt out an answer before she had time to come up with a lie. It used to be very effective, but Freya had learned to pause before answering any question her mother asked and take stock before speaking. It was too easy to say the wrong thing. The consequences were severe.

“No, I think it’s gross,” Freya said. “Why do you ask?”

“There were eleven cans yesterday, there are ten this morning.”

“Maybe you took one and forgot?”

“I don’t forget,” Lassa said, and her nostrils flared slightly as she took a sharp breath through her nose. She smelled blood. She wore a gray suit with a sky-blue blouse. She probably had a date later tonight.

“Well, I wouldn’t take one. What would I do with it?”

“Did you pour it down the sink or something?” Lassa never took her eyes off Freya’s. The only reason Freya wasn’t getting upset was because she knew Lassa wanted her to. As much as Lassa claimed to hate psychiatrists, she was just like Dr. Garbuglio.

“Why would I do that?” Freya asked, forcing her voice to be steady.

She couldn’t understand why Lassa was doing this first thing in the morning. It was hard enough to make herself get up and go to school without being interrogated over a can of some disgusting drink. Since the ambush at the park, it felt like everyone at Grayson stared at her. God only knew what Malcolm had told them. Freya hadn’t told Lynn. It would have raised too many questions.

“That’s what I’m wondering because there was an empty can on the countertop when I woke up this morning.”

“Were you drinking last night?” Freya asked a little too pointedly. Lassa drew her head back, and her shoulder tensed. Freya was ready to put an arm up to block the slap. But Lassa just glared at her.

“Not enough to leave an empty can on the counter and forget about it.”

“So, do you think someone broke into the house to drink your Ensure?” Freya asked, and Lassa snorted.

“No. Don’t be obtuse. Are you still taking that Lunesta?”

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Oh, no. Panic stabbed at Freya’s stomach.

“Yes, every night. It really helps.”

“How many pills are left in the bottle?”

There were seven.

“I don’t know. I could count them, why?” Freya lied, thinking Lassa might make something out of it if she knew exactly how many pills were left. Lassa tapped her fingers on the countertop, one-two, one-two.

“One of the side effects of Lunesta is sleepwalking. I think you did this last night without knowing it.”

Freya decided to change her tactic and go along with Lassa.

“Oh. Weird. I don’t remember doing that at all, but I guess I wouldn’t?”

Lassa just stared at Freya, who felt more and more backed into a corner. What the hell could she say here? Had this happened, or had Lassa set the whole thing up to screw with her?

“Starting tonight, I’d like you to start breaking the pills in half and taking only half of one.”

“Why would I do that?” Freya asked, trying not to sound as alarmed as she felt.

“Lunesta works like benzodiazepine. It’s not as dangerous to go off it quickly but still better to taper. Lunesta isn’t something you want to take for a very long time, Freya.”

“But I need it to sleep.” Freya’s voice had grown very small. Somehow, Lassa had found out there was one thing letting her hold it together, and now she was trying to take it away. Freya’s eyes felt hot with the beginning of tears.

“Sleepwalking is very serious. You could fall and hurt yourself or wander into the road. You’ve been taking this for quite a while now. It’s a good time to stop.”

“I didn’t drink it!” Freya protested, but there was no give in Lassa’s face. She had made up her mind.

“Can we ask Dr. Garbuglio about this?” Freya asked, even though she knew the answer and it would make Lassa angry. She had to try.

“He doesn’t know a tenth of what I do about medication. His opinion is worthless.”

“I don’t want to stop taking it,” Freya said, clenching her fists. Lassa’s eyes dipped. She didn’t miss the gesture.

“Put it on the list of things you hate me for making you do. In fact, bring me the bottle.”

“You don’t understand. I can’t sleep without it,” Freya protested. She detested the sound of her own voice, cringing and needy.

“When you get tired enough, you’ll sleep,” Lassa said.

“No, I won’t! I can’t get drunk every night and sleep around like you do. I need this. Don’t take it away from me.”

For a shocked second, neither could believe she’d said it. Freya expected Lassa to crack her across the mouth. Instead, she looked punctured. A wounded sound hissed from her tight lips.

“I’m sorry,” Freya said.

Lassa couldn’t speak. She disappeared into Freya’s room and came out with the Lunesta bottle.

“Find your own way to school.”

Lassa left her standing in the kitchen.

The moment rushed up and swallowed Freya. If she couldn’t sleep, if she had to lie awake all night and be tired all day, then she couldn’t escape it. It was the river. There was no other way.