Liam had not touched the swapped bottle since the day he watched Alex exchange the pills.

He had simply left it sitting on the shelf in its usual place, exactly as Alex had arranged it, and continued taking the original medicine from a small paper twist he kept carefully hidden in the lining of his sleeping mat. Every morning and every night he was careful. He smiled when Alex visited. He laughed at his jokes. He accepted the casual arm around his shoulders and the easy, familiar conversation. Inside, the knowledge sat like a cold stone in his chest. Someone wanted him dead, and the person closest to him in...