Page 20 of A Prescription to My Heart

By the time Marigold comes down, dressed in her school uniform—white polo, navy skirt, knee-high socks—she’s still eyeing me like she’s trying to figure something out. I ignore it, handing her a bowl of cereal before grabbing my coffee. She’s only eight, still in elementary school, though she acts like she’s in high school half the time.

We eat in silence, the faint hum of the refrigerator filling the quiet. Marigold kicks her feet under the table, still thinking. She’s never been one to let anything go easily. An admirable, albeit infuriating trait.

Finally, she tilts her head. “Can we invite Talia over again?”

Don’t react. I take a slow sip of coffee.

“No,” I say flatly.

She groans. “Why not?”

“She’s busy.”

“You don’tknowthat.”

I set my mug down harder than necessary. “Eat your breakfast, Marigold.”

She huffs, but obeys.

I check my watch again. “Time to go.”

Marigold grabs her backpack, and I walk her to the car.

The drive is quiet, but as I pull up in front of her school, she turns to me.

“She’s nice, Dad,” Marigold says.

I grip the steering wheel. “I never said she wasn’t.”

“But you don’t want her around.”

I exhale slowly. “It’s complicated.”

She studies me as if she’sfarolder than eight. Then sighs dramatically. “Youdolike her.”

I groan. “Marigold. Out.”

She grins, opens the door, and hops out. But before closing it, she leans in. “I’m inviting her over again.”

And then she’s gone.

I watch my daughter disappear into the crowd of kids and exhaling irritably.

That dream is still in my head.

And now, Marigold is making it worse.

Chapter 5

Talia

Idon’tmeantoeavesdrop.It just happens.

I turn the corner of the dimly lit hallway, my sneakers barely making a sound against the polished linoleum, when I hear his voice—sharp, biting.

Soren.

I stop instinctively, my body going still.

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