Davidsons

Mondays were the most tied-up days of the weeks. The packed hallways, people rushed in; some painful hellos, some ecstatic goodbyes. Becca prepared the medication tray for 102 when the glass doors opened, and they walked right in. Arms crossed Anna's expressions firm behind her walked her mom; rage in every step of hers. Eyes filled with worry. Becca frowned as she kept the tray aside and walked from behind the counter.

"Is everything okay?" She asked once they neared her. Anna was still in her pyjamas with a tint of pink on her cheeks and lips, lashes perfectly curled.

"I'm telling mom, it was just a minor pain in the chest,"

"The doctor said.."

"You had a pain in the chest?" The voice of Becca, louder and, prominent made the nurses walking by turn around.

"Well, it was a minor pain," Anna shrugged.

Becca crossed her arms, "You need to come for a check-up. Even though it's not hurting anymore, it can still mean something else."