Page 42 of Whispers of Wisteria
“But what if they have to do more?” I whispered, pressing my mouth against my knees. “I don’t want anyone touching me down there.”
The silence extended long enough for me to believe I was safe.
But then I glanced up. The boys were looking at each other.
“Can I go h-home now?” My mouth was numb.
Titus’s hands tightened around my ankles, and Julian sucked in a sharp breath. They exchanged one last secret message before Julian finally replied.
“Of course,” he said, although it sounded like he spoke through gritted teeth. He wasn’t happy, but he would listen. “But can I make a suggestion?”
I watched him curiously. This wasn’t exactly a situation where one offered up ‘suggestions.’
“What if you only talked to my mother?” he said slowly, almost hopeful. “She might not even need to do a physical.”
Julian’s features blurred. “But what if she does?” I asked.
“Then refuse.” Julian shrugged. “You don’t have to agree to an exam you’re uncomfortable with. But if that’s the only thing holding you back, you should know that you have options.”
“I can say no?” I bit my lip.
“You can always say no,” Titus cut in, shooting Bryce a dark glare.
“But—” I started, attention flickering between Titus and Julian. “If I just want to ask questions… but don’t want anything more… it’s okay?”
Honestly, it would be a relief to ask questions. Online medical archives were terrifying, and textbooks didn’t help either. I hadn’t even known it was possible.
Julian nodded.
“Okay.” I pressed my chin to my knees once more. “But only for Dr. Kohler.”
7
The perky brunettenurse pointed to the door with a yellow-painted finger. “In here,” she said. “Dr. Kohler will be down to see you in a moment. She’s finishing a rotation on the other end of the hospital.”
Then, and not for the first time since the nurse had called my name from the waiting room, she shot the dragon and necromancer a dirty look as Titus slipped past her and into the room ahead of me.
I’d asked them to come, and we’d, rightfully, left Bryce to wait.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a wary tone. She watched Julian with a critical gaze. “You’re not assigned here today.”
“No, I’m not,” Julian replied, squeezing my hand. “But I’m here anyway.”
“Okay…” Her reply was slow, her tone doubtful, and her eyebrow rose as she warily looked between us. Titus had moved to the other end of the room—back to the wall near the wall-mounted computer—and crossed his arms.
Meanwhile, Julian ignored her and led me to the pink examination table. He frowned at the gown draped over the edge.
I hadn’t noticed it at first, but once Julian focused on the garment, I couldn’t look away.
My palms began to sweat. I’d been locked away the last time I’d worn one of those, not to mention that changing meant that some kind of exam was expected.
Titus stepped forward, snatched the item, and threw it into the trash before he resumed his previous position. A rather dramatic reaction, considering they probably just bleached the crap out of these gowns and reused them between patients, but the sentimentality was still quite touching.
It was enough to cause my rising panic to fade, in any case.
“She’s not going to have an examination today,” he said.
The nurse glanced at her chart and raised her eyebrow. Her hoop earrings jingled in the movement. “If she’s not going to—”
