agree.
“What’s there to tell? The djinn wanted her dead and she’s not dead. End of story,” Brielle snaps, her face in a severe sulk as she stares intensely at her computer screen. She’s pissed about something all of a sudden. I can’t see what’s on the screen because she’s using the monitor that doesn’t face the bed. I’m sure that’s on purpose.
“Not good enough and you know it,” I say. I roll up a piece of sheet and bite down on it while the doctor unwinds the gauze covering my arm. I groan in pain as the soiled gauze takes a few layers of skin with it as its being removed.
“Remarkable,” he says. “Everything we’ve been through today and your wounds actually look better than before.” He reaches up to the bandages on the left side of my face and peels them back. I whine in pain again as every hair along my hairline comes with them. “My god,” he whispers.
“What? What’s wrong with my face?” I ask, panicked. My vanity is suddenly kicking my fear and pain sensors’ asses. I don’t want to look like a monster the rest of my life.
He chuckles and shakes his head. With the tip of his finger, he slides it gently from my temple to my lips. “There is nothing wrong with your face. Nothing at all.” I don’t think that’s a medical diagnosis. Now I’m in pain and uncomfortable.
Sensing my discomfort and remembering that he’s supposed to be acting like my doctor, he straightens up and squares his shoulders. “Other than redness and a mild rash, your face has almost completely healed. Have you always been able to heal this rapidly?”
I shrug. Mistake. “Ow, son of a bitch,” I grumble over the pain caused by the movement of my left shoulder. “I don’t know. I’ve never been hurt before.”
Puzzlement washes across his face. “You mean you’ve never been sick before?”
I’m in pain, not stupid. “No, I mean I’ve never been hurt before.”
He doesn’t believe me. “No bumps or bruises, no knee scrapes as a child, no broken bones?”
“No,” I say more forcefully. “I have never been hurt before.”
“Well, aren’t you little miss perfect,” Brielle grumbles without looking up from her typing.
“How could you have gone through life, especially childhood, and never suffered a minor injury of any kind?” the doctor asks.
“I’m not clumsy, I guess.” Why is he all over my case about this?
His response is to have his eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead. “I did not mean to bring up a sensitive subject. I simply have never witnessed a patient heal this quickly. You have no idea the extent of your injuries when you were admitted the night of your accident.”
I close my eyes and breathe through a wave of pain. “Can we talk about something else,” I gasp. “Like pain meds? I think that would make a great conversation.”
Regret washes over his face. “We should have let the security team do their job and kept you in the hospital.”
Brielle snorts. “Yeah, that would have worked out well for her.”
The doctor turns to look at her. “You said they weren’t as powerful when in human form. If that is the case, it seems that a well-trained security team would have been able to stop them.”
Without bothering to look away from her computer screen, she says, “That’s not the kind of thinking that will keep you alive. And there’s some Tylenol in the bathroom.”
There’s a bathroom? I could use one of those. I crane my head to look around for it and immediately regret it when the motion pulls on my wounds. I’ll just have to pee later because it hurts too much to move at the moment. Hopefully my bladder won’t explode.
“Do you have any type of antiseptic?” the doctor asks. I expect her to say no. Rudely.
“Yeah, I get banged up a lot.
“What’s there to tell? The djinn wanted her dead and she’s not dead. End of story,” Brielle snaps, her face in a severe sulk as she stares intensely at her computer screen. She’s pissed about something all of a sudden. I can’t see what’s on the screen because she’s using the monitor that doesn’t face the bed. I’m sure that’s on purpose.
“Not good enough and you know it,” I say. I roll up a piece of sheet and bite down on it while the doctor unwinds the gauze covering my arm. I groan in pain as the soiled gauze takes a few layers of skin with it as its being removed.
“Remarkable,” he says. “Everything we’ve been through today and your wounds actually look better than before.” He reaches up to the bandages on the left side of my face and peels them back. I whine in pain again as every hair along my hairline comes with them. “My god,” he whispers.
“What? What’s wrong with my face?” I ask, panicked. My vanity is suddenly kicking my fear and pain sensors’ asses. I don’t want to look like a monster the rest of my life.
He chuckles and shakes his head. With the tip of his finger, he slides it gently from my temple to my lips. “There is nothing wrong with your face. Nothing at all.” I don’t think that’s a medical diagnosis. Now I’m in pain and uncomfortable.
Sensing my discomfort and remembering that he’s supposed to be acting like my doctor, he straightens up and squares his shoulders. “Other than redness and a mild rash, your face has almost completely healed. Have you always been able to heal this rapidly?”
I shrug. Mistake. “Ow, son of a bitch,” I grumble over the pain caused by the movement of my left shoulder. “I don’t know. I’ve never been hurt before.”
Puzzlement washes across his face. “You mean you’ve never been sick before?”
I’m in pain, not stupid. “No, I mean I’ve never been hurt before.”
He doesn’t believe me. “No bumps or bruises, no knee scrapes as a child, no broken bones?”
“No,” I say more forcefully. “I have never been hurt before.”
“Well, aren’t you little miss perfect,” Brielle grumbles without looking up from her typing.
“How could you have gone through life, especially childhood, and never suffered a minor injury of any kind?” the doctor asks.
“I’m not clumsy, I guess.” Why is he all over my case about this?
His response is to have his eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead. “I did not mean to bring up a sensitive subject. I simply have never witnessed a patient heal this quickly. You have no idea the extent of your injuries when you were admitted the night of your accident.”
I close my eyes and breathe through a wave of pain. “Can we talk about something else,” I gasp. “Like pain meds? I think that would make a great conversation.”
Regret washes over his face. “We should have let the security team do their job and kept you in the hospital.”
Brielle snorts. “Yeah, that would have worked out well for her.”
The doctor turns to look at her. “You said they weren’t as powerful when in human form. If that is the case, it seems that a well-trained security team would have been able to stop them.”
Without bothering to look away from her computer screen, she says, “That’s not the kind of thinking that will keep you alive. And there’s some Tylenol in the bathroom.”
There’s a bathroom? I could use one of those. I crane my head to look around for it and immediately regret it when the motion pulls on my wounds. I’ll just have to pee later because it hurts too much to move at the moment. Hopefully my bladder won’t explode.
“Do you have any type of antiseptic?” the doctor asks. I expect her to say no. Rudely.
“Yeah, I get banged up a lot.
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