Page 13

As I slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine, I can’t help but think about how utterly exhausting today has been. Nothing’s gone the way I expected. The universe seems hell-bent on throwing curveballs at me, and I’m struggling to keep up.

But at least I can do this. At least I can check on her.

Pushing open the glass doors, I’m met with the unmistakable scent of antiseptic and the low murmur of voices from a TV playing a nature documentary in the waiting area. A bored-looking receptionist glances up from her computer as I approach.

“Hi,” I start, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m looking for a patient who was brought in earlier. An elderly woman named Marjorie. She collapsed at Julie’s Diner.”

The receptionist’s face softens a little, and she nods. “Are you family?”

“Uh… no. Just a friend, I guess. I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

She hesitates, clearly weighing the rules against whatever empathy she’s managed to hold on to during the night shift. Eventually, she offers a small smile.

“Hang on. I’ll check for you.”

As she types something into the computer, I fidget with the strap of my bag, my mind still racing. What am I even doing here? Am I overstepping? But I couldn’t just go to bed without knowing.

After a few moments, the receptionist glances up. “She’s stable and awake. Room 204. Visiting hours are technically over, but… if you’re quick, I don’t think anyone will mind.”

“Thank you,” I say, relief flooding through me.

I follow the signs down a corridor lined with faded diabetes awareness posters and finally find Room 204. I’m just about to knock when I hear familiar voices inside.

Pushing the door open cautiously, I peek in—and freeze.

Dan is sitting in one of the plastic chairs by the bed, talking softly to Marjorie, who’s propped up on the pillows looking surprisingly chipper. Chloe is perched on the edge of the bed, holding Marjorie’s hand and nodding along with whatever story she’s telling.

Dan looks up when I enter, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Rachel?”

“Oh,” I mumble, feeling suddenly awkward. “I… I just wanted to check on her. Make sure she’s okay.”

Marjorie’s face lights up when she sees me. “Oh, hello.”

I step inside fully, offering a hesitant smile. “I just… I was at the diner tonight. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Marjorie waves a wrinkled hand, dismissing my concern. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a little spell, that’s all. Doctor saysI’ll be out of here by tomorrow morning. You young folks made quite a fuss over me.”

Chloe grins up at me from her spot on the bed. “We brought her some flowers,” she says proudly, pointing to a small, slightly wilted bouquet still in a 7-Eleven bag. “Dad said they’re good for cheering people up.”

“They’re lovely,” I say, glancing at Dan. “Good call.”

He catches my disparaging look. “Choices were limited at this time of night.”

Marjorie’s eyes flit between us, her smile turning sly. “You two make a lovely couple,” she says.

Dan’s head jerks up, his mouth opening to protest, but I beat him to it. “Oh, no, we’re not?—”

He cuts in, clearing his throat. “Just friends.”

Marjorie gives him a look that says she doesn’t buy it for a second. “Well, you ought to be. She’s a keeper, that one.”

I feel my cheeks heating, and I glance at Dan, whose expression has shifted to something almost unreadable. He doesn’t respond, just looks away, his jaw tightening.

The nurse pops her head in, giving us a stern look. “I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over. You’ll have to say goodnight.”

Marjorie waves her off, and sees the worry flit across my face at the thought of leaving her alone. “Oh, don’t you worry about me, dear. I’ll be just fine. You’ve done more than enough already.”

I give her hand a gentle squeeze. “Take care of yourself, Marjorie.”