Page 31 of A Prescription to My Heart

“I don’t care how it happened.” My voice is clipped. “I care about fixing it.”

She flinches. I exhale, forcing myself to ease up. “Thank you for getting her here.”

Roselyn nods, looking guilty.

I lift Marigold easily into my arms. She tucks her face against my shoulder, and something in my chest pulls painfully tight.

“Calloway,” Dr. Savoie warns.

“I can carry my own daughter,” I snap. Softer, to Marigold, “Don’t worry, Goldie. I’ve got you,” I press a kiss to her hair.

Chapter 7

Talia

Thedoorsslideopen,and the sharp scent of antiseptic floods my senses. The ER hums with movement—nurses moving in quick, practiced strides, monitors beeping in steady rhythm, voices cutting through the air in clipped urgency.

Then, through the chaos, I see her.

A middle-aged woman rushes inside, breathless, gripping the hand of a little girl. Her face is flushed, eyes darting wildly, her fingers tightening around the child’s small wrist as if afraid to let go.

The girl stumbles slightly, her steps unsteady, and that’s when I notice the bandage above her eyebrow.

Marigold.

My stomach clenches.

Soren appears out of nowhere, moving fast. His jaw is tight, his eyes sharp as they land on his daughter. He doesn’t hesitate despite the protests I hear from Dr. Savoie.

“Dad,” Marigold murmurs, her voice small.

“I’ve got you, Goldie,” he says, scooping her into his arms with the kind of gentleness I never would’ve expected from him.

Marigold clings to him, her fingers curling into his shirt, and for a moment, the frantic energy shifts—narrowing down to just them. Soren’s arms around her. Her trust in him.

I swallow.

I’ve seen Soren Calloway angry. I’ve seen him impatient, condescending, impossible. But I’ve never seen him like this—terrified.

Without another word, he turns on his heel and moves. Not rushing, but with purpose, his long strides eating up the distance as he heads toward an exam room, Dr. Savoie calm but hot on his heels.

I follow before I can stop myself.

The door swings shut behind me, muffling the outside noise. The space is quiet, sterile, the overhead lights casting a sharp glow over the white walls and medical equipment.

“Set her down, Calloway,” Dr. Savoie says.

Soren lowers Marigold onto the exam table carefully, like she’s made of glass.

She blinks up at him. “Are you mad?”

His face softens. “No, baby.”

“Not even a little?”

A ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth, but it doesn’t last. His fingers brush against her forehead, just below the bandage, his expression darkening again.

“I need to check you over, okay?”

---