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“No. She’s covering for one of the girls so will be working nights for the rest of the week.”
“She’ll be here later?”
She pauses, watching me intently before answering. “Uh-huh.”
“Who will be taking your place tonight?”
“The same person who took my place last night. Emma, wasn’t it?”
“Can you make it so that it’s Scarlet?”
Her eyes tighten on me. “No.”
“Do you know someone who could?”
“Yes.”
“You do?”
“Mr Sullivan—”
“It’s Lance.”
Her cheeks flame. “Lance… my job is to fix you, not to play the mediator between you and Scarlet.” Her face softens somewhat. “Look, she’s a very good friend to me. If she decides to pop in here, it isn’t going to be because I told her to. Give her some space, okay.”
“Knock knock.” I drag my eyes away from Mia and toward the woman walking into the room. I remember her from the night I was brought in. She’d looked at me, heard my name, and then immediately asked me if I knew a Scarlet Lowell. “I thought I’d pop in and see how we’re getting on.”
“He’s doing great,” Mia answers.
“You’re certainly looking a little better than the last time I saw you.” She walks to my bedside, getting a good look at my face. She smiles. “My name’s Dr Annie Harlow. I was the doctor who spoke to you when you were first brought in. How are you feeling?”
I wish they’d stop asking me that.
“Don’t answer that.” She chuckles. “I can understand how infuriating it can get being stuck in one of these beds for days on end. You’re allowed to tell us to bugger off when we get to be too much.”
She pulls something from her pocket and reaches for my forehead, pulling open my eye and shining a light directly inside.
“Jesus,” I mutter, trying not to squint.
“Unless I’m doing my job,” she adds, seemingly enjoying watching me squirm. “Any news on the leg?” she asks Mia.
“Daya doesn’t think surgery will be needed.”
“Music to my ears. So, what’s the plan of action today?”
“I want to get another chest x-ray to check that fluid on his lungs. And then I have two discharges to do.”
“Sounds like you have time for a coffee.”
Mia grins.
“Would you like a coffee, Lance?” Dr Harlow asks.
I shake my head, closing my eyes.
Sleep doesn’t come.
“He’s way bigger than the picture, Daddy.”
