Page 125 of Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger

Ew.A bitter laugh escapes. “Easier said than done.”

“Ah, Marianne, you’ll be fine,” Nina insists. “Grab a glass of wine and some crab legs. Oh, and a pharmacist called.”

“What? Who?”

“A pharmacy near Regina. They said you had to call them back right away.”

I frown, confused and slightly annoyed. Why would a pharmacist in Regina want to talk to me? “Did he say what it was about?”

“No,” Nina responds casually. “Just said it was urgent.” She gives me the number to call, and I type it down in my phone under Regina’s pusher.

“Thanks, Nina,” I mutter.

The call ends, and I’m left staring at the waves licking the shore.

The last time I was in Regina and encountered a pharmacist…

“We don’t have any of those pills in stock right now. I’m sorry. It’s not a usual medication.”

My imagination runs wild, conjuring scenarios where medications become life-or-death secrets. But maybe he received some.

Eric’s voice resonates against the walls of my skull.“Just take a pill, princess; it’ll be better.”

And then, Kai’s.“You’re high?”

Questions I never dare ask pop into my mind, like that odd feeling of being chained to Eric or the suicide attempt and the chilling nightmares.My fingers dance across the screen, dialing the pharmacy’s number. After going through the options, I finally reached a real person.

A woman.

“Goodman’s Pharmacy, I’m Liz; how can I help you?”

“Hi, Liz, I was contacted by the pharmacist about an anxiety medication?”

“Name, please.”

“Ma… Could I talk with the pharmacist, please?”

There’s a brief pause and a rustling as Liz passes the phone over. Another voice, deeper this time, takes over. “Yes, this is Dr. Harris.”

“Hello, my name is Marianne Milosh, and I was told to call…”

Another pause, this time loaded with consideration. “Ah, yes, Miss Milosh. We met last week at the pharmacy. I’ve been looking into your anxiolytic prescription, and there seems to be some issue.”

Dread curls in the pit of my stomach. “What issue?”

“You see, there was an anomaly in your file that flagged our system, and I wanted to ensure everything is being handled correctly.”

“I don’t understand.”

But he continues.

“Your medication records, specifically the dosages and refill dates, don’t align with standard practices or our logs.”

A heavy pause makes me wary.

“Would you please get to the freaking point,” I snap, popping the tequila open.

He grunts. “Well, it appears there’s a discrepancy between what was prescribed and what’s on record here. Could you come by the pharmacy so we can resolve this in person?”

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