Chapter 7: Bianca - Observation - Change

Bianca
Observation

“Here you go.” The perky brunette nurse pointed into the small examination room with a yellow-painted finger. “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 they slipped past her. They’d followed me, at my insistence, but we left Bryce behind.

“Why are you…” she began, tone wary as she regarded Julian in suspicion.

“I’m not working today,” Julian replied, squeezing my hand. “I’m here for moral support.”

“Okay…” Her reply was slow, tone doubtful, and her eyebrow raised as she warily looked between the two of us. Titus moved to the other end of the small room—back against the wall near the wall-mounted computer—and crossed his arms. It was obvious that he had no intention to move anytime soon.

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 dressing in a dressing gown meant that there was some kind of exam expected.

Titus stepped forward, snatched the item from the seat before throwing it into the trash, then 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. “This is the emergency room, if she’s not going to be seen, then—”

“Just let it go.” Julian crossed his arms, moving between us. “It’ll be explained better when my mother gets here.”

She sighed, and as I pressed my cheek against Julian’s arm to peek around him, I glimpsed her dark ponytail bouncing behind her as she moved to leave.

“Just get comfortable,” she told me, pointedly no longer looking at the two men. “And if you need anything at all, ask for me: my name is Catalina.” She pointed at her nametag—bright white against her hot pink scrubs. “Just make sure you don’t let their status intimidate you, in some spaces, that sort of thing does not matter. Some of us still take our jobs seriously.”

My heart was beating wildly at her statement, but she’d already slipped from the room and closed the door by the time I could even think of a response.

Instead, I looked to Julian, who was still watching the door after her with a raised brow and pulled on his sleeve.

“What did she mean?”

“She probably thinks we’re pressuring you to let us stay.” Julian shrugged. “And that we have no business being here.”

“Technically we don’t,” Titus pointed out. “But it’s Catalina. I’m sure she suspects something. Did you see the way she was looking at her?”

“Miles should talk to her about Bianca soon; she’ll figure it out eventually anyway,” Julian replied. “If she thinks we’re hurting her, she’s not going to let up.”

“What’s that?” My pulse raced. Why would she think they were hurting me?

“What you see here is a nurse—and a witch—who is actually doing their job for once,” Titus answered. “She’s also not easily intimidated. It’s a good trait; she’s clearly on your side—as a patient—even if it means questioning us.”

But why wasn’t she intimidated by them? Since most people I’d seen thus far had been, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Is there a reason she’s not scared of you?”

“She’s an officer. Her name is Catalina Garcia, and she’s Miles’s Tongjun,” Julian explained, leading me to the seat. “She’s ambitious, but quiet.”

Tongjun…

I sat down, feet dangling over the edge of the chair, as I chewed the inside of my cheek and mused over this.

That’s why her name seemed familiar. Jiayi had mentioned her once. She said Catalina was too softhearted to get involved in her and Xavier’s questionable research.

Which was odd, because the nurse didn’t seem to be timid. Although to be fair, Jiayi and Xavier’s affinity for human-skin bound books written in blood ink might break some highly regarded medical ethics.

But she—along with Ada—marked the last of the Tongjun quintet. I’d already known Du Yun for some months, as a secondary therapist under Dr. Kohler, then there was Xavier and Jiayi.

A knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts, and Dr. Kohler stepped into the room.

“I came as soon as I heard,” she stated, closing the door behind her. She barely seemed to notice Julian or Titus. “What’s going on? It must be important for you not to want to wait for your appointment.”

“I-I…” My words faded as my throat closed, and I touched my fingers together and stared at a discolored portion of the tile floor. This was it—it didn’t even matter that Julian and Titus were in the room. What I felt was beyond embarrassment. I didn’t even want to be here, but…

Like I’d admitted to Titus once, I was afraid that there might be something seriously wrong with me.

It wouldn’t be so bad, so long as there was no exam. She’d be able to tell, right?

“It really hurts,” I admitted, my voice a near-whisper.

Papers rustled through the otherwise silent room before Dr. Kohler finally asked, “What hurts? Your husband only says you fainted.”

Stupid Bryce. If he planned on getting all up in my business and dragging me here, he could have been more specific. The man was a scientist for goodness’s sake, a little human biology shouldn’t gross him out.

But then again, hadn’t my revenge hinged on him being disgusted? He was a botanist. They didn’t do people.

That settled it: I was going to purchase a box of tampons and put them on his pillow. If he planned on being bothersome about this, he should follow through.

But my throat closed, and my thoughts halted. This time, I pulled myself out of my tangent, and forced out a low breath, trying to focus.

She was watching me in calm expectation now, and I had no idea where to begin.

“Mother,” Julian’s cool voice washed over me, smoothing at the edges of my nerves. “When did you and Bianca last discuss reproductive health?”

My face heated as Dr. Kohler’s brows drew together and her lips curled downwards. She watched Julian in acute disapproval. “Reproductive health?” She’d never sounded sterner. “Please tell me you aren’t—”

“Not that,” Julian interrupted, squeezing my hand. “The script you signed—it’s for this. She’s in extreme pain and has never come to you about it.”

“This happens every month?” Dr. Kohler asked, tone cautious. “Since when?”

“Not every month…” I corrected, turning my attention to my knees again.

“How often?” Dr. Kohler questioned, and I could feel her eyes on me, but I still couldn’t look up.

“Just when I get my period,” I answered.

There was a brief moment of silence before Dr. Kohler spoke once more, even more slowly than before. “And how often is that, Bianca?” From her tone of voice, I knew she expected some kind of answer. “You told me you were regular.”

It was too late to back out now.

“Whenever.” I shrugged. I’d been trying to pretend the cramping didn’t exist, to refocus my attention on the situation at hand, but now that we’d started discussing it, the pain was becoming harder to ignore. “A few days every couple of months.”

“What kind of pain are you having?” I could hear her placing the clipboard on the counter. “Where is it?” she asked, and I flinched as the sound of a glove snapping sounded loud through the room.

Before either boy could cut in, I pulled my hands from the necromancer and twisted them in my lap, as I blurted out a short, “It’ll be fine,” in response to Dr. Kohler’s questions. Maybe this was a terrible plan after all. “Just forget about it. I’ll just take some more of the white pills Damen gave me. They work much better than Tylenol.”

“You can’t just pop a bunch of Tylenols!” Julian protested. “Wait, is that what you’ve been doing in the past? How much did you usually take?”

I pressed my lips together.

“I have an idea,” Dr. Kohler said softly, she’d moved closer to my knees. “I might not be as adept as Julian, but would you like me to use my abilities? I can get a general idea of where the pain is and intensity.”

I watched her from under my eyelashes. I’ve always wondered, but never asked. “How often have you done that to me without asking?”

Doubt flashing across her deep brown eyes, and, for a moment, she looked regretful. “Not often,” she replied slowly. “It was mostly when you were younger. We were trying to figure out the best way to help you. I never have once you grew older until you let me a few weeks ago.”

“Okay.” I bit my lip, fighting back my doubt. She had no reason to lie to me now.

“Afterwards, I still might need to ask questions,” she warned. “You’ll need to talk to me if you want help.”

I nodded, my vision returning to the floor.

She sucked in a low breath. “Do you want them to leave?” she asked, referring to the boys.

I shook my head.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “What if I need to examine you?”

I shook my head harder, this time meeting her eyes. “No. I won’t do it.”

There would be no examination.

“Bianca…” she sighed, and I knew what she was thinking. I was thinking the same thing.

What was wrong with me? Why was I making such a big deal of this? Why couldn’t I just be normal? But still, even though I knew I was being ridiculous, I couldn’t.

“No,” I repeated, grasping Julian’s hand. He moved to my side at once, and Titus stood straighter in his corner.

“Not yet,” Dr. Kohler conceded, half-shrugging as she removed one of the gloves she’d just put on. “Let’s just focus on one thing at a time.”

But it was difficult to think, because what if she found something terrible? If I refused a checkup, I might never know what was wrong.

I wasn’t sure what was scarier—never knowing, or the thought of a physical. Right now, they were pretty darn close.

“I’m going to touch your arm.” Dr. Kohler’s warning rang through my head as she pushed up my sleeve. She hovered her hand to my bare forearm. Close, but not quite touching. Her eyes met mine as she waited for my acknowledgement. “Is that okay?”

What if things were worse than I thought? Since my mouth was dry with fear, I shrugged.

Her fingers brushed gently over my skin, palm pressed warmly against my arm, and her eyes closed as she sucked in a slow breath. Julian was holding my other hand and a low, nervous tension radiated from him while Titus remained still as a statue across the room.

It seemed like everyone was still, waiting for Dr. Kohler’s feedback.

It took longer than expected—almost an eternity before the doctor finally opened her eyes and pulled back from me. When she straightened, brushing at her jacket, her serious expression never lightened.

“Bianca,” she said cautiously, “I’m going to have to examine you.”

It was difficult to breathe and the hair on my arms stood up. Titus moved from his position, flanking at my other side, and Julian’s trepidation grew stronger as his hand tightened on mine. What had she found that was so terrible?

“Why?” And even more importantly, why couldn’t she tell without seeing me first?

“Because this isn’t normal,” she replied. “And I can’t make a diagnosis without checking you physically. How long has this been going on?”

What was she asking about? The sharp, stabbing pain so much where I could hardly breathe? The irregularity? Or was it the fact that I just wanted to sleep until it was over?

“Can’t you just start treatment without an exam?” Julian cut in. “Until she’s ready?”

“You know I can’t.” Dr. Kohler shook her head, expression serious. “There are a number of things it could be. If I misdiagnose this, I could be doing more harm than good. We need to be sure first.”

“What could it be?” I asked. I’d searched the internet, of course, but who knew how accurate my results might have been.

“Fibroids, endometriosis—” she began, counting off with her fingers.

“Cancer?” Julian cut in.

“Well,” she grimaced. “It’s a possibility, but not likely. Especially for her age. The most likely culprit is endometriosis.” She watched me in caution as she continued, “There are treatments that can help, but I need to be able to make a correct diagnosis.”

I had a strong suspicion what she might say, but still had to ask, “And to do that, you’ll need to do…?”

“A pelvic exam,” she said. “Or a transvaginal ultrasound.”

My ears were buzzing, but even so, I was certain I’d heard her correctly. That was exactly what I thought. I’d seen images of such things on Google—I knew how the process would go—and no thank you.

“That’s okay.” I released Julian’s hand and pushed to my feet, trying, but failing, to ignore the two men hovering at my side. I stepped past her—it was rude, especially since she’d gone out of her way to see me, but I’d apologize later. “I’m going home now.”

“Bianca,” Dr. Kohler softly called after me, her words reaching me just as my hand closed over the doorknob. “No matter what it is, even in the best-case scenario, if you don’t take care of it, things will get worse.”

I couldn’t breathe and my stomach churned in pain. “W-worse?”

“It can cause infertility,” she replied.

“What do you care?” I faced her, hysteria and fear ripping from my throat. I was dizzy with it and was past the point of caring about Julian and Titus’s tentative expressions. “I’m not supposed to have children anyway. Isn’t that why everyone decided to ruin my life?”

Dr. Kohler sucked in a breath as she watched me with wide eyes—belatedly, I realized she’d never seen me truly angry before. “I’ve always cared,” she replied, wiping her hands once more. “The council has never had my loyalty, that should be obvious by now. I only want you to be happy.”

“Well, guess what? I’m not happy.” The white room spun around me and I clenched my fists at my side, fighting to keep my balance.

Julian stepped forward, reaching for me. “Darling, I—”

He froze, expression paling, when I glared at him. “Don’t try to change my mind. You told me I could say no,” I accused.

“You can say no!” The fear was thick between us, and his blue eyes swam with emotion. “Let’s talk about what we can do, then we’ll go home. But first, you need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” I hissed, turning on my heel and slamming open the door. How dare he; he was the one who told me I had options. Suddenly, in my anger, the pain was so much easier to ignore. “I’m leaving,” I called behind me, unable to look at them anymore. “Thanks for seeing me.”

I stalked from the room, almost tripping on the pink-scrubbed nurse from earlier as she passed the door. She almost dropped the tray she was carrying and barely regained her footing in time to prevent herself crashing into the floor.

“Mrs.—” she began, but I stepped around her.

“Sorry.” The heat rose up the back of my neck. This was the last thing I needed—more people to witness my humiliation. “Thanks for your help.”

Someone moved to the doorway, but I wouldn’t let them stop me, and, without even looking back, I took off down the hallway. Bryce was still in the waiting room, face buried in his phone as I burst through the double doors, but he hadn’t even jumped to his feet before I’d left the building.