I manage to get Masuka to cover for me, once again, and I'm at the hospital in nearly fifteen minutes. I didn't let anyone at the station know where I'm going, figuring that would only cause for more trouble. Harrison is wearing a hospital gown covered in rocket ships, stars, and planets. He sits up in the bed, busying himself with the coloring book in front of him. He looks up when he hears me enter the room.
"Daddy!"
I ruffle his blond hair. "Hey, feeling sick, buddy?"
He nods, pointing to his stomach. I glance around the room, wondering where Jamie is, and that's when I hear the sound of someone throwing up in the bathroom adjacent to Harrison's bed. "Jamie's not feeling well either?" I'm once again replying the words the nurse had said to over the phone through my head. We think your son my have ingested some sort of poison. Poison. Why does my mind immediately go to Hannah whenever I hear that word? Because maybe that's exactly what she is. She's some how injected her way into my life, changing me. But her poisonous self doesn't kill me, it just makes me feel whole. If anything, she's like a drug. I just want to keep seeing her...But what about Harrison? Did Hannah really poison him? She's tried to kill Deb before, why not my son as well? I despise even thinking of such thoughts.
"I think I'm going to go home." Jamie comes stumbling out of the bathroom.
"Do you know what happened?" I feel bad for questioning Jamie when she's spilling her guts out, but the sooner I know the truth the better.
"I honestly don't really know, Harrison just started feeling sick after dinner. I decided to wait awhile to see if it would pass, but I ended up bringing him over here when it didn't." I look back over at Harrison, who seems to be completely un-bothered by the whole ordeal.
"Where was Hannah?" I question, dreading the answer.
"She made us dinner...and after we ate was shortly when Harrison started feeling sick..." Jamie continues to look at me, as if saying: Hannah could have had something to do with it. That's when the doctor comes in. He gives Harrison a small shot in the arm, some antibiotics to flush out his system, and then he turns to me.
"You're lucky your son got here when he did." He stands up, motioning for me to follow him outside the room. I pat Harrison on the arm and give Jamie a nod before following his lead out the door. "He may not have not survived if it'd been much longer," he finishes.
"So what exactly did he eat?"
"We found traces of Arsenic poisoning in his system. It's a common murder weapon for being so discreet yet potent...it looks as though this was no accident, Mr. Morgan." I shake my head.
"You're saying someone tried to kill my son?"
"All I'm saying is that he is very lucky to be alive...he and his nanny."
I suppose I'll never know for sure if it was Hannah, or why it was Hannah, so to speak. I'll have to confront her about it myself. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that she's innocent. She wouldn't attempt to kill Harrison. Why would she want to? Yet I was almost sure she didn't poison Deb, when indeed she had. I have to ask her myself.
Arlene Shram, Hannah's college roommate, answers her front door after she hears multiple abrupt knocks. Her children cling onto her legs, slapping and pinching each other much to their mother's disapproval. Arlene's surprised by who she sees at the door...Hannah. Her clothes are torn, blond hair wet and pressed against her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Hannah? Wha-what are you doing here?"
"Ya-you...ha...have...to...help...me" Arlene can barely understand her through her sobs. She sticks her head out the door to make sure no one is looking, then motions to Hannah for her to come inside. Hannah obliges, and Arlene shuts the door behind them.
"Alright, both of you, go to your rooms! I've had enough of this bickering!" Arlene yells at her kids, who continue to hang onto her legs. "Now!" And the children do as they're told. "Hannah, I thought you were in prison..." Hannah manages to control her tears enough for her friend to understand her.
"Well I'm here now, and I need your help." Arlene starts to shake her head, knowing all to well the kind of trouble she could get in for helping aid a wanted fugitive.
"I can't, not again, I won't lose my kids again, Hannah."
"Arlene, please...I...I took care of the both of us in college, and now I need you to be able to return the favor!"
"What's wrong? What happened?"
"I...I did something awful."
"Hannah fucking Mckay," Deb mutters under her breath when she sees her face on the TV screen.
"Actually, she was going by the name Maggie Castener, and now she's apparently going by the name of Claire," Elway pipes in, leaning forward in his chair. "What kind of person changes their name twice?"
"A person who's a lying, murdering, piece of shit and is trying to hide from the police because they're here illegally," Deb says, flatly. She knows all too well where Hannah is. Most likely with Dexter. She imagines the two of them lying in bed together at night, talking about their future in Argentina together. It makes her sick.
"Well how would our little, blond friend feel about us bringing the U.S. Marshall Service into this mess?"
"She'd probably love that," Deb jokes, "do whatever the fuck it takes to take her down."
"Already on it," Elway says as he picks up the phone. Deb leaves him alone in his office. She takes out her phone and scrolls through the contacts, stopping at Dexter's name. The same feeling she always gets in the pit of her stomach whenever she thinks about him comes back. Why is she protecting him? Would he be doing the same thing for her if they reversed rolls? Deb knows the answer all too well. She was hurt...really, really hurt when Dexter told her he was going to be moving with Hannah. Not that Dexter would even care. He probably hadn't even noticed.
Suddenly her phones starts buzzing in her hand, scaring the shit out of her.
"Hey, I'm surprised you're actually calling me," Deb answers, "thought you were busy spending the day with Hannah."
"That's what I'm calling you about."
"What do you fucking mean?"
"I think Hannah may have poisoned Harrison...and Jamie." I wait for my sister to respond, but all I can hear is silence on the other end. "Deb?"
"Is he okay?"
"Yeah, yeah he's fine now, Jamie got him to the hospital in time. They said they found Arsenic in his system. Hannah is the only person I can think of...but, Hannah wouldn't do that..." Deb laughs.
"What the fuck do mean she wouldn't do that?! She did it to me, Dex...not that you seem to care." I can't stand when she does this, forcing me to pick a side.
"I'm going to look into it," I state, "but I need Harrison to stay with you until I can find out for sure what Hannah's up to, I don't want him to be around her."
"That's fine, he can stay with me as long as he wants. I hardly get to see him anymore."
"Thanks, Deb, I'll bring him over to your place later tonight." I hang up the phone.
All I do is get Hannah's voicemail every time I call her. She's not at my apartment, not at any of the hotel's near or around Miami. I begin to think she went to Arlene's house. After all, she was the one who helped her in her get-out-of-jail plan. She's also probably the one who's helping her now. If Hannah did indeed poison Harrison, why is she still crowding my mind 24/7? I drop my son off at Deb's, and go home only to collapse in my bed. I usually don't dream, but tonight, I'm frustrated. I dream about the night Deb walked in on me in the church, killing Travis Marshall. She no longer looks at me with devotion, she looks through me. I had the urge, in that moment, to hold her in my arms forever and tell her everything was going to be okay. The biggest lie I could probably ever tell.
I awake, once again, to find myself in the darkness of my own room. I don't know why I keep hoping Deb and mine's relationship will go back to the way it used to be...because I know it never will. I don't know why I keep hoping Hannah didn't try to kill my son...because I know all too well it had to be her. I don't why I keep hoping I can handle my double life...
because I know no one ever lives happily ever after when they pretend to be someone they're not.