Page 29 of A Prescription to My Heart

The morning air is crisp, a slight bite of cold as we step onto the driveway. I unlock the car, and Marigold climbs in, chattering about a class project while I start the engine.

We pull out onto the road, and drive away from the quiet of the suburbs into the city. Horns, the rush of traffic, the faint scent of coffee and asphalt in the air.

Marigold hums along to the radio, swinging her legs.

“You okay with Roselyn, Goldie?”

She shrugs. “She seems nice.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to test her patience.”

She grins, all innocence. “Me? Never.”

I huff a laugh, shaking my head.This kid.

Fifteen minutes later, I pull up in front of the school.

“Alright, troublemaker. Out you go.”

Marigold unbuckles, then pauses, looking at me seriously. “You will be home tonight, right?”

Guilt twists in my gut. “I’ll try.”

“Okay…” But she sounds like she expected that answer.

And then she’s out the door, running toward the entrance, blending into the wave of kids.

I watch until she disappears inside.

Then, I exhale, pull back onto the road, and head for the hospital.

***

The clock reads 4:03 PM when my phone rings.

I barely glance at it, already reaching for a patient’s chart. Pediatrics is a blur—flashing monitors, the sharp tang of antiseptic, the constant beep of vitals. A typical shift.

But then I see the caller ID: Roselyn.

I frown, answering. “Yeah?”

Her voice is tight. “Dr. Calloway, thank goodness. I was having trouble reaching you. I—Marigold fell. She—she slipped on a wet floor.”

Everything in me goes still.

“What?”

“She hit her head. She’s awake, but—”

“Is she able to answer you? Tell you her name; where she is?” My voice is sharp, cutting through the static in my brain.

“Yes, but she says it hurts. She looks a little pale.”

My stomach knots. “How hard did she fall?”

“I don’t know. One second she was running, the next—”

“Bring her here. ER. Now.”

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