Dr. Morris made a small, quick mark on her paper. She adjusted her glasses, pushing them up with her index finger.
“We are going to need some images to be sure nothing is broken,” she said. “I am going to order a series of scans. Chest, ribs, and your left wrist.”
Daniel took a step forward, his hand coming down on the metal rail of my gurney.
“Is all of that really necessary?” he asked. “A simple fall. She just needs some rest, surely. We have a very busy week ahead with the girls, and my mother is already waiting at the house.”
“It is standard procedure for a fall of this nature,” Dr. Morris said, her voice brooking no interruption. “I want to be thorough.”
She turned and stepped through the blue privacy curtain, her soft-soled shoes making no sound at all.
Daniel waited until the rustle of the curtain died down, then he stepped out of the bay. I could hear his footsteps moving down the hall, heading toward the lobby.
Through the narrow gap in the blue curtain, I watched the corridor. The bright lights of the main hallway reflected off the polished linoleum, making everything look clean and cold.
A few minutes later, Patricia arrived. She was wearing her beige knit cardigan, her fingers already working the silver beads of her rosary, counting them with quick, practiced movements. She met Daniel near the chrome drinking fountain, her voice a soft, pious whisper that barely carried across the hall.
“Daniel, thank goodness,” Patricia said, her head tilted down. “How is she?”
“She is fine,” Daniel said, his voice dropping to a low, tight hiss. “The doctor is being difficult, ordering X-rays. They are trying to make a big deal out of nothing.”
Patricia stopped her fingers on a larger bead. She reached into her leather handbag and pulled out her small, leather-bound personal calendar. It was the black one with the gold clasp, the one she used to write down her church circle meetings and her weekly appointments.
She flipped the pages quickly, her eyes scanning the neat, handwritten lines.
“We cannot have any complications, Daniel,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “Remember what happened last November. The calendar is very clear about the dates. We cannot have people asking questions about previous visits or comparing records.”
“I know,” Daniel said, his face tight. “I have it under control. She is saying she tripped on the stairs.”
