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Jane felt she was walking on eggshells the moment she arrived at the hospital in a jumble of sweat and fear. Her heart beat furiously against her chest.

She had never expected that she'd be in the hospital again, not after her father's death.

She walked towards the visiting area and allowed her eyes to scan it, about ten people were seated on the chairs provided in the waiting area.

She sighted Phoebe seated beside Junior's teacher. She had called Phoebe immediately she received the call crying and telling her to go to the hospital.

Immediately they saw her, they walked towards her.

“Where’s my son?“ Jane cried.

They tried to pacify her but she would not listen.

“Phoebe,” she gripped Phoebe's shoulders. “Where’s Junior?”

Phoebe forced a smile and gently released herself from Jane's grip. “Junior is fine, he's upstairs receiving treatment.” she sighed, “The doctor said we got here just in time. Our child will be fine.”

Jane sighed in relief. “I should see him, where is he?”

Phoebe tapped on the seat beside her. “Sit,” she urged Jane. “The doctor says he'll get back to us, so we can't. Relax, he's fine.”

Jane stood still. “And the doctor?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

Jane tried to relax and looked around. She noticed the tiled spacious and sparse hallway.

She had thought that Phoebe had taken Junior to a clinic but this was a private hospital – a hospital for the rich.

Despite the fear of a looming fat bill awaiting her, she tried to channel her thoughts to Junior and forget the costs of the hospital.

“Junior is fine, my son is fine.” She muttered to herself as she placed from one end of the hospital. People watched her but she did not care.

Jane walked forward and leaned against the balustrade.

Phoebe walked towards her. “Jane, sit down.” Phoebe spoke.

Jane shook her head. “I’m awaiting the doctor,” she replied. “What did they say is wrong with my son?” she asked.

“I think I heard the doctor mention malaria, we'll know when he comes. Sit down jane.”

Jane placed her hand on her head. “Ebami oh, it is my fault. Junior had a fever last night but I gave him paracetamol and ignored it.”

“What?” Phoebe asked, surprised.

“I never knew it would turn out this way, he was fine this morning.”

“You should not joke on matters like that, why didn't you call me?” Phoebe scolded.

Jane inhaled sharply and blinked her tears away.

Minutes later, a nurse walked down the stairs holding a report.

Jane met her the moment she climbed down the staircase. “How’s my son doing?” she asked.

The nurse narrowed her eyes. “What’s your son's name?” she asked.

“Junior,”

The nurse raised her brow. “Junior?”

“Caleb. Caleb Akinyemi,” Jane corrected.

“Oh I see,” the nurse said with a faint smile. “Your son is alive and well, he's receiving treatments.”

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