Excerpt
PROLOGUE IT DIDN’T LOOK like a revolution. No flashing red label. No skull and crossbones. Just a white pill in a clean orange bottle that was prescribed by a doctor, filled at a pharmacy, taken with water, and approved by the FDA. OxyContin didn’t kick down the door like a street drug. It walked in through the front. Hospitals. Clinics. Suburban homes. Coal towns. Indian reservations. Pill by pill, it made its way into the bloodstream of America. Not just physically, but economically, culturally, and legally. This wasn’t a drug cartel hiding in the shadows. This was a billion-dollar corporation sitting in boardrooms, giving keynote speeches, and sponsoring museum wings. It was supposed to...