Page 22 of A Prescription to My Heart

I cross my arms, tilting my head. “So… are you going to pretend I didn’t just hear all of that?”

His eyes flash, but instead of answering, he steps past me, moving toward the nurses’ station.

I roll my eyes and follow.

“Soren.”

He ignores me. Typical.

I quicken my pace, falling into step beside him. “You can’t just pretend that didn’t happen.”

“Why not?” he mutters.

“Because Iheardit.”

He stops suddenly, turning to face me. “And?”

I arch a brow. “And… it sounded serious.”

“It’s not your business.”

I exhale sharply. “Maybe not. But I’d have to be blind not to see how much that call upset you.”

His nostrils flare slightly, but he doesn’t argue.

I step closer, lowering my voice. “They’re trying to take Marigold, aren’t they?”

His entire body goes stiff. I see it in the way his fists clench at his sides, the way his shoulders tense.

Finally, he exhales, running his hand quickly through his hair, a tick I’ve begun to notice. I think he’s struggling to reign himself in, but when he speaks again, his voice is back to perfectly controlled.

“Theythinkthey can take her,” he says quietly. “They can’t.”

“Are you sure?”

His eyes snap to mine. “Yes.”

I don’t know why, but the intensity of his response makes my stomach twist. For the first time, I see something else beneath all that control. Something real.

Fear.

All at once, he’s no longer cold, calculating Dr. Soren Calloway. He’s a father, and he’s afraid of losing his daughter. That realizationgutsme.

I inhale, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Are they open to working something out?”

His jaw locks. “I don’t care if they are. They weren’t there when Lisa was sick, when she was dying and Marigold was heartbroken. They didn’t care then. Now, suddenly, they want to act as if they care their granddaughter now?” He scoffs. “They don’t get to change their minds when it suits them.”

I stay quiet, letting him get it out.

For a moment, we just stand there, the hospital bustling around us—beeping machines, hushed conversations, footsteps echoing down the hall.

Then, softly, he says, “I won’t let them take her.”

The finality in his voice makes my throat tighten.

I clear it quickly, forcing a small smirk. “I doubt Marigold would go willingly.”

His lips twitch, almost like he wants to smile but refuses. “She’s stubborn.”

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