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The team wheels her into the unit and work to resuscitate her. They hook her up to an IV line as she begins to breathe on her own. She’s not responding to anything we’re doing, and I’m terrified.
So much for not condoning violence. I just put one of my students in a coma.
Chapter Twelve
Minnie
Owen knew things would come to this. He predicted I would have a breaking point. But I denied it. Yoga was nonviolent. I was trying to do my part in a nonviolent way, but I’m beginning to see that might not always be the option. I’m seeing that even more now that I have a child of my own to protect. It’s already a love like I’ve never known, and it’s taking hold inside me.
I have no time to think what to do next, because the military police are checking in yet another new patient to the emergency room.
A tall man with a broken nose. None other than Chief of Staff Brad Chalmers.
I have to summon all strength to keep my fingers from shaking as I clean the blood off his face and set the cartilage in his nose without anesthesia. It was his choice to go without it. I bandage him up and put him in a wheelchair, which he doesn’t appreciate.
As soon as the radiology nurse wheels him away, I have to take a moment to breathe. Placing my hands on the counter of the exam room, I breathe in and out. Deep inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. The horror is coming in waves. What have I done to that woman? She was likely only doing her job. Maybe I should have talked to her. Made her see reason. But what if she would have taken me in on the spot? Made me disappear like they did my mother?
One moment I’m plotting how to raise a baby with Owen, the next I’m considering whether I should turn myself in for assault on the female Regime official. A knock on the open exam room door pulls my attention.
“I need a minute, okay?” I push past my lips.
“It’s not okay. I need you in my office. Now.”
It’s my supervisor, and she sounds pissed.
Shit. I follow her to her office.
“Sit down.” My supervisor Tina closes the door to her office. “Minnie, this is serious,” Her eyes are locked on me. My heart starts to pound and my hand protectively goes to my stomach.
“Oh god, I know. I don’t know how it happened, but I will take full responsibility…”
Tina cuts me off. “I’ll tell you how this happened. Nobody ever taught you how to act like a lady,” she says, throwing me off.
What the hell…? “I’m not sure…”
“And yes, you will be taking full responsibility for this. We have expedited your arrangement. You’ll be married next week.”
The blood drains from my face. I might faint. I try to hold back the terror. “I don’t understand what that has to do with what happened today.”
My boss is getting increasingly pissed. “Did you skip the day in nursing school when they taught you about human reproduction? You sleep around, you get pregnant. End of story.”
Oh god. She isn’t talking about the agent. But how does she know about the pregnancy already? And how dare she imply that I sleep around.
“I’m so confused right now,” I say, trying to think how she knows this already.
“Your coworker stumbled on your test stick that you left lying around for everyone to see. It was yours, wasn’t it?”
Coworker? Lisa? Shock and sadness rise in my throat, but I fight back tears. No. I won’t let any of them see me cry.
No point in denying the pregnancy test was mine. They will see the bump in about three to four months anyway.
“Yes, it’s mine,” I admit.
Tina shakes her head. “I guess we can take the treasure out of the trash, but we can’t always get the trash out of the treasure.”
“What does that mean?” I try to hold back the bite in my tone, not wanting to dig my grave even deeper.
“It means as a scholarship child from the other side, we expected more from you. But I suppose we should not have expected you to keep your legs together, just like the rest of them.”
Anger replaces the tears in my throat. I don’t even know what to say or where to focus my rage.
Tina continues. “I’ve sent for your things. You’ll be staying in your dorm until the wedding.”
“Do I get to meet him first?” I throw out, not that I want to meet this man anyway.
“Sweetie, you lost that privilege when you let street scum knock you up.”
“This is wrong. I want to marry the father of my baby,” I protest.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying more. The anger coursing through me has me clenching my fists in my lap. I’ve never wanted to really punch someone before, but right now I’d love nothing more.
