Page 36 of The Toy Collector

The woman behind the desk is all crisp angles. Her dark hair pulled into a sleek chignon, her white uniform pressing sharp creases into her skin. The gold name badge pinned to her lapel reads Natalie.

“Hi there. How can I help you?” she asks, her voice as polished as the marble surrounding us.

I hand her my appointment details, and answer, “I’m Piper Harrington. I believe I’ve been scheduled for an appointment.”

Her eyes crinkle as they flick over the paperwork I handed her, then back to my face. “I just need your signature, please. Then I’ll take you to the changing room.” She slides a digital tablet across the counter, a single perfectly manicured finger indicating where I need to sign.

I pick up the stylus, willing my hand to steady. The tremble in myfingers sends the first stroke skittering off-course. I grit my teeth, try again. This time, the stylus moves in a jerky approximation of my usual scrawl. It looks like the signature of a stranger. Maybe it is.

Natalie takes the tablet back, her smile never wavering. “Follow me, please.”

She steps out from behind the desk, leading me to an exam room, the pastel walls and softly humming machines doing little to mask the purpose of the space.

“Dr. Emily Voss will be with you shortly,” Natalie informs me. “Would you like anything to drink while you wait?” I quickly shake my head, watching her as she leaves me with a wave.

I close my eyes, trying to slow my breathing. It’s not that I have anything to hide, but medical examinations always freak me out.

The click of the door handle jolts me back to the present. Dr. Emily Voss enters the exam room, tablet in hand, her lab coat a blinding white under the fluorescent lights. She moves with the brisk efficiency of someone long accustomed to navigating the intricacies of the human body.

“Piper Harrington?” she confirms, her voice crisp and impersonal. I nod, my throat suddenly too dry to form words. “I’m Dr. Voss. We’ll be doing a full-body evaluation today, including some swabs, a pelvic exam, bloodwork, and a brief verbal assessment.”

She says it like she’s reading off a grocery list, each item no more remarkable than the last.

“Let’s start with the questions so you can get more comfortable.”

She starts with the basics; last menstrual cycle, contraceptive use, and if I have any history of miscarriage or abortion. I answer each question honestly.

“Are you sexually active right now?”

I snort. “No.” And then just because I feel fucking awkward, I smirk and add, “But it’s not from a lack of trying.”

Ignoring my lame attempt at a joke, she carries on. It feels like she’s asking me a million questions before she finally puts her tablet down and announces it’s time for the sensory tests. Christ, this is going to be the day that never ends. That health insurance better be worth it.

Lorenzo

The moment I step onto the jet in Montreal, my phone buzzes with an incoming call from Dr. Voss. I tap my earpiece, answering the call.

“Lorenzo,” she greets.

I gesture for the stewardess to bring me my usual drink. “Good evening, Emily. How did the appointment with Miss Harrington go yesterday morning?”

She throws herself into an explanation that’s more Latin than English with all the different medical terms she uses. “I’ve already sent the report to Maria for the insurance.”

“Thank you,” I state.

Even though I have a special interest in my toy’s results, that’s not why Maria set up the appointment. Wedohave great insurance, and thorough health checks are needed for that. Normally, our interns don’t get full medical coverage. But there’s nothing normal about Piper.

“Maria mentioned you might be interested to know that the results I’ve gotten back for Miss Harrington are great. I’ve emailed them to you.”

I open my email, immediately seeing the top two are from the good doctor, and another one from Maria.

Ending the call with Voss, I focus on the one from Maria first. It doesn’t take long to figure out it’s a CliffsNotes version. It’s times like these that my assistant deserves a raise for anticipating my needs.

After spending two days at a summit in Montreal, I’m beyond exhausted, and not in the mood for lengthy and convoluted medical jargon.

I skim Maria’s summary, eyes dragging over each line until one detail makes me pause:

Miss Harrington stated she is not currently sexually active. Birth control status: IUD. No current sexual partners. Clear history.

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