Page 60 of Josephine and Clay

The hospital is small in the way everything in Buckhorn is small. Efficient, familiar, and quietly observant.

They take me straight through.

“Blood pressure’s a little low,” the nurse says as she adjusts the cuff on my arm. “Have you eaten today?”

“Yes.”

“What time?”

I hesitate.

She smiles faintly. “That’s what I thought.”

Dr. Harris answers the rest of her questions. I run through the symptoms and timeline, trying to make the facts line up. I sit on the edge of the bed, hands folded in my lap, focusing on staying upright and composed while my body catches up with itself.

“I’d like a urine sample,” she says, handing me a cup. “Standard procedure.”

“Of course.”

Time stretches in a way I don’t like.

There’s nothing to do but wait, and waiting leaves too much room for thoughts I've been actively avoiding.

Dr. Harris stays longer than necessary, leaning against the wall, making occasional comments that are meant to be reassuring.

“You’re doing fine,” he says.

“I’m sitting still.”

“Exactly.”

I huff out a quiet breath.

Eventually, he checks his watch. “I’ve got to get back.”

“You should,” I say immediately. “The clinic⁠—”

“Will survive for an hour without you.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“We’ll see.”

“I will,” I insist.

He smiles slightly. “Call me if you need anything.”

He leaves me in a stifling quiet. Not that it lasts long.

“Oh my goodness, Josie, the store got a call from Dr. Harris. Are you alright?”

My eyes widen as Penny races into the waiting room. “I… I’m fine, I…”

She stops short. “You’re at the hospital.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not where fine people usually are.”