When I walked in, my wife and my brother jumped away from each other abruptly, as if I had caught them doing something forbidden.

— Why aren’t you asleep? — she asked, far too tensely.

— I forgot my water, — I said.

I went back to the bedroom, but sleep wouldn’t come. Their fear had been too obvious. I realized: they were hiding something, and it had to do with me.

The next night, I decided to pretend I had taken the pills and was already asleep. I lay down, waited for them to leave the room, then quietly got up and stepped into the hallway. I walked toward the kitchen and peeked inside carefully.