She had felt so alone in all this.
"We have people you can talk to," the female said. "Sometimes talking afterward can really help."
"Thank you."
"Use that white handset if you need help or feel dizzy, okay? I'm not far."
"Yes. I shall."
As the door shut, tears watered up her vision, and yet even as she ached in her chest, the crushing sense of loss seemed disproportionate to the reality. The pregnancy was only in the very beginning stages - logically, there was not much to lose.
And yet to her, this was her young.
This was the death of her young -
There was a soft knock at the door, and then a male voice. "May I come in?"
Layla squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard. "Please."
The race's physician was tall and distinguished, with tortoiseshell glasses and a bow tie at his throat. With a stethoscope around his neck and that long white coat, he looked like the perfect healer, calm and competent.
He closed the door and smiled at her briefly. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine, thank you."
He regarded her from across the room, as if assessing her medically even though he did not touch her or use instruments. "May I speak frankly?"
"Yes. Please."
He nodded and pulled over a rolling stool. Sitting down, he balanced a file on his lap and stared into her eyes. "I see that you haven't listed your hellren's name - nor your father's."
"Must I?"
The physician hesitated. "Have you no next of kin, my dear?" When she shook her head, his eyes registered true sadness. "I'm so sorry for your losses. So there is no one here for you? No?"
When she just sat there, saying nothing, he took a deep breath. "All right - "
"But I can pay," she blurted in a rush. She wasn't sure where she could get the money, but -
"Oh, my dear, do not worry about that. I need not be renumerated if you are not able." He opened the file and moved a page out of the way. "Now, I understand that you have gone through your needing."
Layla just nodded, as it was all she could do to keep from screaming, "What is the test result?!"
"Well, I have looked at your blood results and they have shown some...things I didn't expect. If you so consent, I would like to take another sample and send it to my lab for a few more tests. Hopefully, I'll be able to make sense of it all - and I'd like to do an ultrasound, if you don't mind. It's a standard exam that will give me an idea how things are progressing."
"As in, how much longer I have to miscarry until it is complete?" she said grimly.
The race's physician reached out and took her hand. "Let's just see how you are, shall we?"
Layla took a deep breath and nodded again. "Yes."
Havers went to the door and called for the nurse. When the female entered the room, she rolled in with her what appeared to be a desktop computer mounted on a cart: there was a keyboard, a monitor, and some wands mounted on the sides of the contraption.
"I shall allow my nurse to do the draw - her hands are far more competent than mine in that regard." He smiled in a gentle way. "And in the meantime, I'm going to check on another patient. I shall return imminently."
The second needle stick was far better than the first, as she knew what to expect, and she was briefly left by herself when the nurse departed to deliver the goods to the lab - wherever, whatever that was. Both of them returned shortly.
"Are we ready?" Havers asked.
When Layla nodded, he and his nurse conversed, and the equipment was arranged close to where she was sitting. The physician then rolled back over on his stool and pulled out two arm-like extensions from the sides of the examination table. Flipping what looked like a pair of stirrups free, he nodded to the nurse, who dimmed the lights and came around to put her hand on Layla's shoulder.
"Will you lie back?" Havers said. "And move down so that you're at the end of the table. You're going to put your feet here after you remove your undergarments."
As he indicated both of the footrests, Layla's eyes peeled wide. She'd had no idea that the examination was going to be -
"Have you never had an internal exam before?" Havers said with hesitation. As she began to shake her head, he nodded. "Well, that's not uncommon, especially if this was your first needing."
"But I can't take off - " She stopped. "I'm bleeding."
"We'll take care of that." The physician seemed utterly sure. "Shall we get started?"
Layla closed her eyes and leaned back so she was lying flat, the thin paper that covered the padded surface crinkling under her weight. With a lift of the hips and a quick shuffle, she did away with what covered her.
"I'll take care of that for you," the nurse said quietly.
Layla's knees locked together as she patted around with her feet for those forsaken stirrups.
"That's it." That rolling stool squeaked as the doctor closed in. "But move down farther."
For a split second, she thought, I can't do this.
Curling her arms around her lower belly, she squeezed them in, as if she could somehow hold the baby inside of her at the same time she kept herself from flying apart. But there was nothing she could do, no conversations she could have with her body to calm it down and keep what had implanted, no loving pep talk she could impart to her young so it would keep trying to survive, no strain of words to calm her total panic.
For a split second, she longed for the cloistered life she had once found so stifling. Up in the Scribe Virgin's Sanctuary, the placid nature of her existence had been something she had taken for granted. Indeed, ever since she had come down to earth and tried to find purpose here, she had been rocked by trauma after trauma.
It made her respect the males and females whom she had been told were beneath her.
Down here, everyone seemed to be at the mercy of forces outside of their control.
"Are you ready?" the doctor asked.
As tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes, she focused on the ceiling above her, and gripped the edge of the table. "Yes. Do it now."
Chapter Twenty
Holy shit, Qhuinn was completely out of control.
Almost no visibility. Plane wobbling back and forth like it had the DTs. Engine cutting in and out.
And he couldn't even check on Z. Too much wind to yell over, and he wasn't taking his eyes off wherever they were headed - or more like wherever they were going to crash-land - even though he couldn't see a damn thing -
What in a million years had made him think this was a good idea?