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“Molly, if I promise to come play with you, will you go with your doctors?” I hoped she would loosen up.
She shook her head. “Grown ups lie, you won’t come. Daddy lied, he said I would feel better. The doctors lied, saying the other doctor would me fix me. I want to go home!” She cried harder.
I glanced at her dad, who just looked broken. His shirt was rumpled, his shoulders hunched, and his five o' clock shadow seemed to be working on its tenth hour.
“Okay. I won’t lie then,” I said, shifting her. “You are sick, Ms. Molly, and these people are trying to help. Running away won’t make you feel better, and you won't win in the end. You liked the drawing, right? I can’t come to play, but I can paint you any picture you want. Just tell me.”
“My mommy,” she whispered. “Can you draw her?”
I smiled, nodding. “I will have it to you in a week, and if you don’t receive it, you can tell everyone I am a liar too. But right now, will you go with your doctors?”
She frowned, but nodded.
I handed her to a dark-skinned doctor with glasses. “We will take her to get her labs done, and then she’ll be back in her room,” he said as the trio escorted her away.
Her father—Toby, I now remembered—stood wringing his hands, watching her go. “I know this is a very dumb question, but are you all right?” I asked.
He picked up his head some, turning.
His blank look was like he'd forgotten I was there, which was understandable.
“My daughter called me a liar, and she is in pain. I’m the furthest thing from all right.” He put his hand over his face and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to dump that on you.”
“It’s okay, I said it was a dumb question. You look like you need a mental break. Would you like to sit with me? You're Toby Wesley, right? From my building?”
“Oh, that's why you look familiar. Yes. Ms. Poe, correct?” He followed me to sit in the chairs by the wall. “Is this your work station?” He glanced over at the light sketching on the wall.
“Yes. I officially started on it today.” I leaned back in my chair and followed his gaze. My sketch was pretty hard to see with the naked eye, so I wasn’t worried about anyone figuring it out yet. When the paint came in, that’s when the screen was going to have to go up.
“What's it going to be?”
“It’s a secret for now. Which reminds me, do you have a photo of your wife? Is she here as well, so I can work on Molly's painting?”
He sat taller in the chair, not looking at me. “She passed. It’s all right, you're busy. I wouldn’t want her to—”
“Mr. Wesley, if there is anything I would hate to be called, it’s a liar. I promised her a painting. I have to give her one before the week is out, or else that’s what I would be.”
He glanced back, a small smile on his lips, before pulling out his wallet and handing me a worn photo. “If it’s not good enough—”
“It’s fine.” I brought out my phone and snapped a photo of it. I didn’t want to take it from him.
“Mr. Wesley?”
I turned, and there was Eli in his blue scrubs and white coat, holding a large cup in one hand.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes, Dr. Davenport. Molly ran off, but we found her. I’m going to head back to her room now and wait with her, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. I’ll be there momentarily.”
Toby nodded and turned back to me. “Thank you again.”
“Any time.” I stood when he walked away and turned to Eli, who also watched him go.
“Nothing was going on,” I said quickly.
He turned back to me, eyebrow lifted.
