Page 44 of Hidden Nature

Sloan closed her eyes and focused on breathing. “They listened to you.”

“So did you. I didn’t give any of you time not to.”

“Good trick,” Sloan mumbled.

“You need plenty of tricks if you’re going to work in a family business and stay a happy family. And I’ve got plenty.”

Drea stayed in charge when they reached the hospital. Quick and brisk, she put Sloan in a chair and marched to the check-in counter herself.

In under ten minutes, Sloan lay in an exam room with a doctorwho appeared to have graduated from the same school of quick and brisk as her sister.

During the poking, prodding, needles, X-rays, she made herself go somewhere else in her head. Thinking about the moment, what was happening to her could only lead to thinking about what could happen.

After the tests, the stitching, Sloan braced herself for the results.

“You look better,” Drea observed.

Sloan wasn’t sure if they’d let her sister into the room or she’d just bullied her way into it. Either way, she was grateful not to wait alone.

“Oh, and the nurse I spoke to said not to be concerned that Dr. Marlowe looks sixteen. She’s actually thirty-four and an excellent doctor. I googled her while I was waiting.”

“Of course you did.”

“She was in the top ten percent of her graduating class at WVU and opted to specialize in emergency medicine.”

As Drea spoke, Dr. Marlowe, a tall brunette in a white coat and black running shoes, breezed in.

“Good news. No tears or ruptures.”

Sloan’s stress level dropped, just bottomed out as quickly as it had spiked. She hadn’t realized just how high it had spiked until it plunged again.

“Not as good, you have an intercostal muscle strain—basically you pulled a pectoral muscle. You need to contact your surgeon—tomorrow’s soon enough—and we’ll send him your test results. I’ll consult with him. Meanwhile it’s rest, ice—”

“Compression and elevation,” Sloan finished. “RICE.”

“Yes, exactly. Your surgeon may want to see you, and his instructions override mine. Mine are you can resume light—key wordlight—activity in forty-eight hours. RICE and take your meds for pain and swelling. Ice twenty minutes, three times a day, and keep your chest elevated. I’m going to wrap the affected area in an elastic bandage. When you change it, don’t wrap it any tighter than I have. And don’t pick up any toddlers.”

“That’s definitely off my list.”

“Sloan Cooper,” Marlowe said. “Heron’s Rest. You ran cross-country.”

“In high school, yeah.”

“You ran against my sister in regionals—Willa Marlowe, Cumberland. I remember because you nipped her by about two seconds, and went on to All-State.”

“I remember Willa.” Another tall brunette, Sloan recalled. “She ran like a cheetah—with an extra battery pack.”

“And she said your kick at the end was your superpower.”

Sloan managed a wan smile. “Those were the days.”

Drea rubbed a hand up and down Sloan’s arm. “I’m going to step out and call the houseful of worried family. Before I do, is there anything else Sloan’s watchdogs need to know?”

“You’ll get a list at checkout. Keep an eye on her for the next forty-eight. And contact Dr. Vincenti tomorrow.”

“Done. I’ll be back.”

“Let’s get you wrapped and back home,” Marlowe said when Drea walked out. “Your wounds are healing well. I understand this is a setback in your recovery, and it must be frustrating to someone with a superpower kick. But it’s temporary.”

---