Page 48 of All of Me

He looks up, his expression a mix of worry and guilt. “She’s with the doctor. They’re running tests.”

“What kind of tests?” I press, my heart hammering.

“Bloodwork, mostly,” Adam says, his voice strained but calm. “They think it’s a virus, but they want to rule out anything serious.”

The words make my knees weak, and I sway slightly. Owen steps closer, placing a steadying hand on my back.

“Can I see her?” I ask, barely able to get the words out.

“They’re only letting one parent in at a time,” Adam says, his gaze flicking to Owen before settling back on me. “You should go.” He motions for a nurse to come over and I follow her down the hallway.

When I step into the room, Ruby is lying in a hospital bassinet, her tiny body dwarfed by the crisp white sheets. Her face is flushed, and her chest rises and falls quickly with each shallow breath. My heart twists at the sight.

“She’s stable,” the nurse says. “The doctor will explain more shortly.”

I sit beside Ruby, brushing my hand over her tiny fingers. “Hi, sweet girl,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Mama’s here.”

Her little hand twitches, and a tear slips down my cheek.

I stay by her side, stroking her soft skin and murmuring to her as the minutes stretch on. When the doctor finally comes in, she explains that they suspect a viral infection but want to monitor her overnight to be safe.

I feel drained by the time I return to the waiting room. Owen is on his feet the moment he sees me, his hand reaching for mine.

“The doctor just left,” I say, my voice calmer than before. “She said it’s fifth disease. It sounds a lot scarier than it is.”

Owen’s brow furrows. “Fifth disease? What does that mean?”

“It’s a virus,” I explain, gripping his hand. “It’s common in kids. The fever and rash are part of it, but it’s usually not serious. She’s going to be okay.” My voice wavers as the words settle, relief washing over me.

Owen pulls me into a hug, his hand brushing gently against my back. “She’s going to be okay,” he whispers, steady and sure.

I nod against his chest, the tears I’ve been holding back finally spilling over. “She’s strong and we caught it early.”

As I lean into him, my eyes flick toward Sara, who is sound asleep on one of the couches in the corner. Her little body is curled up under her coat, her head resting on her tiny arm. My heart aches as I look at her. She should be in bed at home, not here in the middle of the night.

I straighten, wiping my face. “I told the doctor I want to take Ruby and Sara home,” I say to Owen.

Adam, who has been standing near the wall, overhears me and steps forward. “Callie, are you sure? It’s late, the snow’s coming down hard, and Katie and I can take care of them tonight. You don’t need to push yourself.”

Katie nods in agreement. “Ruby’s stable, and Sara’s already asleep. We’ve got this, Callie. You’ve been through so much tonight.”

I shake my head, my throat tightening as I fight the urge to cry again. “I appreciate everything you’ve done,” I say, glancing between them. “But I need to take my girls home. They need to be in their own beds, and I need to be with them. I’ll feel better if we’re all together.”

Adam sighs, his arms crossing over his chest. “I get that, but with the snow coming down, it might not be safe to drive.”

“I won’t push it if it feels dangerous,” I say firmly. “I’ve got Owen, and we’ll be careful. I can’t leave them here, Adam. I won’t.”

Katie’s expression softens, but Adam’s brows draw together in frustration. “It’s not about leaving them, Callie,” he says, his tone tense but measured. “It’s about doing what’s safe.”

“I am doing what’s safe,” I say, my voice shaking but resolute. “The safest thing is for them to be with their mother. I’ll take every precaution on the way home. I promise. But please, Adam, don’t fight me on this. It’s three in the morning, and they need to be home.”

Owen steps closer, his calm, steady presence grounding me. “She’s right, Adam. We’ll drive slow. I’ll make sure they’re safe.”

Adam exhales sharply, his frustration giving way to acceptance. He glances toward Sara, who stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, her little hand clutching the edge of her coat.

“Alright,” he finally says, his shoulders slumping. “But text me as soon as you get home so I know you made it.”

“I will,” I say, relief flooding through me. I turn to Katie. “Thank you for everything tonight. For watching Sara and helping with Ruby. I really appreciate it.”

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