Page 16 of The Perfect Snipe

I huff and roll my eyes, my fingers tapping an agitated rhythm against my thighs. “Have you met him? He’s infuriating and bossy and uptight.”

That man gets on my nerves. And I swear, if I hear one more word about that damn step stool I’m going to crack it over his stupid head.

Stella snorts and my grandmother quirks a brow. Dammit.

But before either can speak, a tall doctor with salt-and-pepper hair strides into the room, flipping through a chart. He looks up and gives me a polite smile. “You must be Ms. Alonso’s granddaughter. I'm Dr. Stevens.”

I shake his outstretched hand. “I'm Cat.”

“Well, it seems your grandmother experienced a significant drop in blood pressure today, likely due to accidentally taking too much of her medication.”

My eyes snap to my grandmother. “Is that true? Are you having trouble with your meds?”

She waves a dismissive hand at me, her gold bangles jangling on her wrist. “Ay, it's no big deal. An honest mistake. I forgot I took my pill and took another. At my age, one forgets things sometimes.”

I chew my lip, thinking back to two months ago when Abuela’s friend Carla called me, saying she brought my grandmother to the ER for the exact same reason. She laughed it off then too, blaming old age.

But now . . .

The doctor clears his throat gently. “It's good that your grandmother seems coherent. But I'd like a quick word withyou outside, if you don't mind?” He tilts his head meaningfully toward the hallway.

“Sure.” I turn to my grandmother, forcing a bright tone that sounds false even to my own ears. “Stella is going to sit with you. We'll be right back.”

My grandmother’s eyes twinkle as she smiles at the young girl lingering by the door. She pats the mattress beside her. “Come. Tell me all about yourself.”

Stella walks over, then perches on the edge of the bed. My grandmother instantly peppers her with questions about school and friends as Dr. Stevens leads me into the hall. I take a deep, steadying breath, bracing myself for whatever news he has to share.

Dr. Stevens gives me a kind look, his gray eyes gentle behind wire-rimmed spectacles. “I reviewed your grandmother's chart. This is the second time in this year she's been hospitalized for issues with medication dosage and fainting.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “Given her age and these incidents, along with some neurological deficits I observed, I believe Rosa may be exhibiting early signs of dementia.”

“Excuse me?”

I rub my eyes and take a few deep breaths, trying to process what I’ve just heard. Sure, there have been little things I've noticed over recent months—forgotten appointments, lost handbags, repeating the same stories twice. But isn’t that just part of aging?

“The onset is often gradual. It manifests differently for each patient. At this point, I cannot diagnose definitively, but I'm very concerned about allowing Rosa to continue living independently.” Dr. Stevens takes a moment before continuing. “I strongly advise looking into full-time in-home care support or an assisted living facility. It’s simply not safe for her to live unsupervised anymore.”

My vision blurs with tears and I lean against the wall, the cool surface grounding me as my world tilts on its axis. My mind spins, thinking about caring for the woman who practically raised me. I swipe at my eyes, most likely smudging mascara onto my cheek.

Just then, loud laughter rings out from inside Abuela’s room, followed by a smaller giggle. My head snaps up as I exchange a surprised look with Dr. Stevens. We both peer into the room to see my grandmother doubled over. Beside her, Stella grins, then looks at me with the most deviant expression.

What the hell is that girl up to?

“Oh, nieta. This little one is a firecracker!” My grandmother pats Stella’s hand. “Think she might be a missing Alonso.”

Oh, shit.

Stella's definitely part mischievous demon, and with my grandmother in her corner . . . I can already feel a headache forming at the thought of what these two might cook up together.

“Abuela, please don’t instigate. Leo will lose his ever-loving mind.”

The two look at each other and laugh. But not in a joyous way. No, much worse. Almost sinister like.

I turn back to Dr. Stevens. “How long before she can go home?”

“We’re still waiting on one more test, but within a few hours. The nurse will give you some information on home health aides and assisted living when she brings the discharge papers over.”

“Thank you.”

When he leaves, I walk back in to find Stella and Abuela whispering. They stop when they spot me. My eyes narrow and I point at both of them, channeling my best teacher voice. “Whatever you two are plotting, knock it off.”

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