Sadie jerks back, startled. When she pulls out her phone, her face drains of color. "It's Rowan."
She answers immediately, and I watch as her expression shifts from confusion to stark terror in seconds.
"What?" Her voice rises sharply. "How high? When did—" She's already standing, gathering her things with frantic movements. "I'll meet you there. Yes, now."
"What's wrong?" I ask, getting to my feet.
"Poppy's sick. High fever, came on suddenly." Her hands shake as she tries to stuff the blanket back into the picnic basket. "Rowan's taking her to urgent care. I need to go."
"We're going," I say, taking the basket from her trembling hands. "I'm driving."
"You don't have to."
"Now," I say firmly, already guiding her toward the truck. "Which urgent care?"
"Mountain View on Palmer," she says, climbing into the passenger seat. "God, I'm so sorry about this. You should just take me back to my car and?—"
"Stop." I reach over and squeeze her hand once, firm and steady. "This is your daughter. Nothing else matters."
The fight leaves her body all at once. She nods, gripping my hand like it's a lifeline.
I drive faster than I probably should, taking corners with precision. Sadie sits rigid beside me, her breathing shallow and quick. Every few seconds she checks her phone, as if willing Rowan to update her.
"She's going to be okay," I tell her, keeping my voice calm and certain.
"You don't know that," she whispers, but I can tell she needs to hear it anyway.
"Kids get fevers. They spike fast and come down just as quick."
"Poppy never gets sick," Sadie says, staring out the windshield. "She's never been to a doctor except for checkups."
I reach over and take her hand again. This time she latches on immediately, her fingers cold against mine. I don't let go until we pull into the urgent care parking lot.
Inside, the fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over everything. Rowan spots us immediately, standing from a chair in the waiting area with Poppy bundled in her arms. The baby's face is flushed, her eyes glassy with fever.
"Mama," Poppy whimpers, reaching for Sadie.
Sadie rushes forward, taking her daughter and pressing her face into Poppy's curls. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."
"They're taking us back in a few minutes," Rowan explains, her voice tight with worry. "Her fever hit 103.2."
"Did you give her Tylenol?" Sadie asks, swaying gently with Poppy in her arms.
"Yes, about twenty minutes ago. It hasn't kicked in yet."
I step forward, noticing the clipboard Rowan's holding. "Is that the intake form?"
Rowan nods, looking slightly surprised to see me there. "I've filled out what I know—but Sadie needs to complete it."
"I'll take it," I offer, holding out my hand. "You two focus on Poppy."
Rowan hesitates for just a moment before handing me the clipboard. I scan the form quickly, insurance information, medical history, current symptoms. I grab a pen from the front desk and sit down to complete what I can.
When a nurse calls Poppy's name ten minutes later, Sadie looks up with such raw fear in her eyes that something in me twists.
I stand immediately.
"Want me to come back with you?"
