No, Jason your friend is hotter

Molly’s POV

"Time of death," my voice rings through the operating room, with my eyes glued to the clock hanging above the gallery. "7:40 pm." 

The limp body of a middle-aged woman lay on the bed, her face blocked away from view and her hands gripping the edges of the sheets as if she knew she was about to take her last breath. 

“Clear this up,” my assistant lead surgeon murmurs, but the chatter doesn’t resume until we have all filed out of the room, leaving the nurses to take care of the rest. I move to the sink, ripping off my gloves before letting the cool water wash my hands. 

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Eye bags decorate my face, with an old acne scar I should have taken care of a while ago. There, I decide I am going to take the weekend off. Maybe go to Disneyland with my family. 

A junior doctor pokes his head in. “Doctor Cross?”

“Yes?” I try to mentally run through all the schedules I have for the day. One more surgery to go, but it isn’t in another hour. God, I need to have another cup of coffee. “Another call?”

He shakes his head. "Your daughter called the hospital. She has been trying to reach you on your private line, but she said it hasn't been connecting."

"Eva?" My face scrunches into a frown. I check the time again. Strange. She is supposed to be preparing for bed right now, and that means no screen time. "Are you sure?"

He nods.

"Did she leave any other message?" I wipe my hands dry with a paper towel, shoving it into the trash can. My feet move mechanically. 

“She said she was tired of waiting,” he says in one breath. “I think she’s still at school. Did you forget to get her because of all the surgeries you had to lead all day?”

I turn to look at him sharply, my eyes wide with surprise and a brewing anger. “What? She’s still at school?”

“It would seem that way,” the doctor stammers, not wanting to be caught in this crossfire.

Jason has got to be kidding me.

He doesn't come after me as I race to my office. My hands move for my phone as soon as I walk in, and I dial my husband's number, the first line on my speed dial. It rings thrice before it goes straight to voicemail.

In that split second, panic begins to course through me.

Pacing my office, I call my daughter next, praying that this is all some huge mix-up and that she is safe, her phone far away from her. My breath leaves my lips in short gasps as I wait for something.

Anything.

"Mummy?" Her tiny voice comes up. She sounds weary, and I can hear a rustle in the background. "Mummy, are you coming to get me?"

"Baby," I breathe, stopping in the middle of the office. "Where are you, honey? Where is your Daddy?"

"I haven't seen him," she responds, and I can imagine her shaking her head, her pigtails dancing around her. "And Mrs. Johnson said she's tired of waiting, too."

"I didn't say that," Mrs. Johnson, her homeroom teacher, says sharply. Her voice comes on the call a second later. “Mrs. Cross, I was only trying to tell Eva that it is late and I have to go home to my husband. I wouldn’t have minded taking Eva with me until you are done for the day, but I don’t know if you and your husband will…”

I shake my head disbelievingly, still quite confused about what is going on. "Mrs. Johnson, haven’t you seen Mr. Cross today? He was supposed to get Eva from school.”

“No, Mrs. Cross. He hasn’t been here today.”

My heart stops working. “So, who dropped her off at school?” 

I have a very good guess.

My feet begin to move again, grabbing my keys from the table and charging through the door without bothering to change out of my scrubs. I race through the waiting room, the nurses there giving me a cursory glance.

That wasn’t new. It wasn’t the first time Eva was forgotten at school by her father, but each time, I hoped it was going to be the last. 

"She said her name was Amanda," Mrs. Johnson continues, papers rustling on the other side. "The person who brought Eva to school. She left her contact information if we needed anything, and we have tried to contact her too about…"

“I’ll be right there,” I cut in suddenly, reaching the garage. It isn’t hard to find my car in a pool of others, and in a few seconds, I pull out of the garage, heading to my child’s school.

I meet her waiting out front, her teacher’s hands wrapped firmly around hers. When she sees me, she realises the tears she has probably been holding all evening. 

“Oh my God!” I whisper, rushing towards her and pulling her into my arms. “Eva, I am so sorry. Mummy didn’t mean to leave you out here for so long.”

Mrs. Johnson doesn’t wait a minute more as she stalks into the distance, disappearing along with the sound of her heels hitting the ground. Eva looks up at me. 

“Mummy, did Daddy forget to pick me up again?”

“No, honey.” I shake my head, uncertain if I am trying to convince Eva or myself. “He was just caught up at work and asked me to get you myself. I ended up forgetting.”

Eva doesn’t look like she believes me, but she nods and nestles her tiny palm in mine, allowing me to walk her to my car.

As I strap her in, the shrill of my phone disrupts the peace of the car. Sighing, I receive the call without looking at the caller ID, assuming it is one of the doctors reminding me of the last surgery of the day. 

But her voice comes on the second I press the phone against my ears. 

“Molly, do you know what time it is? Why on earth did you decide to call Jason this late?”

I blink. “Amanda?”

"Is that Molly?" I hear Jason ask in the background before taking the phone from her. "Molly, Amanda's child has been ill, and your call just woke her up. How will you take responsibility for that?"

Jason’s voice drones on, but all I can hear is Eva’s question echoing in my head. ‘Did Daddy forget me again?’ 

Only now, I am sure forgetting isn’t the worst thing he’s done.