Chapter 8 — David reviews medical appointment reminders on his phone — Then realizes Jessica skipped her evaluation last month
David stared down at the screen of his phone.
The glowing letters of the notification blinked against the dark background.
Community Health Outreach.
Appointment Reminder.
Comprehensive Neurological and Stress Evaluation.
Date: Last Month, the fourteenth.
Status: Missed.
David frowned and angled the screen toward Jessica.
“Jess,” David said quietly. “Look at this. You had an appointment scheduled last month.”
Jessica looked up from the drawing still clutched in her hands.
Her eyes focused slowly on the illuminated display.
The color drained entirely from her face.
“I missed it,” Jessica whispered.
“It says you missed it,” David confirmed. “Why didn’t you go?”
Jessica stood up from the carpet, her knees trembling slightly.
“I didn’t think I needed to,” Jessica said, her voice shaking.
“I was just tired.
I thought the exhaustion was just from the new work schedule and keeping up with the house.”
“You haven’t been sleeping for months,” David said. “And you’ve been losing track of days.”
“I was too embarrassed to admit it,” Jessica admitted, fresh tears spilling over her eyelashes.
“Every time I tried to call and reschedule, I felt like I was admitting I was failing at everything.
So I just… ignored the reminders.”
Chloe walked over and wrapped her small arms tightly around her mother’s waist.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Chloe said softly. “We can go now.”
David nodded in agreement.
“Chloe is right,” David said. “We need to get professional answers. This isn’t just normal stress. We need to call the clinic right this minute.”
David tapped the screen to dial the direct number for the community health office.
The phone rang three times before an administrative assistant answered.
David explained the situation in measured, calm tones while Jessica listened intently.
The receptionist confirmed that a cancellation slot had just opened up for that very afternoon.
David secured the appointment time and ended the call.
“We have to be there in an hour,” David told them.
The family immediately began preparing to leave the hallway.
David walked back into the kitchen to clear the remaining metal lunchboxes off the breakfast bar before they departed.
He opened the pantry door to find spare storage bins.
As he reached toward the top shelf, his hand brushed against a heavy cardboard box pushed far into the dark corner.
David pulled the box down into the light.
Inside sat a collection of small, sealed plastic bags filled with handwritten notes, old receipts, and dozens of tiny metal keys.