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“He was a virgin, too, you know.” Hannah’s voice took on a defensive edge. “It’s not like he can give me anything.”

“Not as long as you remain his only partner.”

Hannah’s gaze narrowed, and she stared at Chelsea with distrust. “You sound like you think he’ll cheat and give me some disease.”

“I hope he doesn’t, but if he did it wouldn’t be the first time something like that’s happened to a young girl. Actually, that scenario happens to women of all ages.”

Hannah considered her for a long time, then asked, “Did it happen to you?”

“No.” Chelsea shook her head. Kevin hadn’t cheated on her—that she knew of anyway. Perhaps it would have been easier if he had. Instead he’d drifted out of her life following the revelation of her back. She should have known better than to let him see the real her. Her own parents hadn’t been able to love her—why had she thought Kevin could? “But a woman is better to be safe than sorry. Taking responsibility for your health isn’t always easy or pleasant. But if you aren’t willing to take on that responsibility, who is, right?”

“True,” the girl conceded. She fidgeted on the table, hinting she wanted to say more. “Brett doesn’t like condoms, but he wears one. At first he thought I didn’t trust him. But other than to tell me the barrier cuts down on what he feels, he hasn’t complained since I explained I had to get a pelvic exam to go on the Pill. He doesn’t want me to have to do anything that would hurt me.” She shot Chelsea a look. “Even if it means he enjoys sex less.”

Chelsea heard the unspoken implication “because he loves me”. Perhaps Brett did.

“They make special types of condom that won’t desensitize him so much.” Chelsea suggested a few brands. “They can be a little more expensive, but it’ll feel more natural.”

Hannah nodded.

“The important thing is that you always use a condom if you’re going to remain sexually active.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told Brett. He says he’ll protect me however he can.” The young girl’s dreamy-eyed smile both touched Chelsea and worried her. She only hoped the boy deserved Hannah’s adoration and never hurt her.

She spent a few more minutes talking with Hannah, answering questions about the vaccine and when she’d need to return for the second shot in the series of three.

Chelsea’s next patient presented with vague symptoms. Fatigue. Generalized muscle aches. Just not feeling quite like herself. Tammy Jones denied any other symptoms and Chelsea ordered tests. When she’d finished, she stepped out and bumped into Betty.

“Oh, I was just coming to find you. Lacey Donaldson is in room four. Her family made her come. She’s seen Dr Jared or Will in the past, but Dr Jared is tied up suturing a fifty-six-year old woman who fell at the grocery store and gashed her arm. Lacey’s mother is afraid Lacey will leave if she has to wait.”

“Lacey Donaldson?” The name sounded familiar.

“Her son is in Madison Memorial’s pediatric wing. Today is the first day Lacey’s left the hospital since her car wreck.”

“Oh.” The name clicked in Chelsea’s mind. “Will mentioned Caden Donaldson.”

He’d told her about the four-year-old who’d been unrestrained in a motor vehicle accident. The young boy had taken a hard blow to the head that had left him in a coma. That had been last week.

“Has Caden regained consciousness?”

“No, he’s being kept sedated to cut down on brain damage until the swelling begins to subside.”

Poor little boy. And poor mother. Chelsea could hardly imagine the emotional ordeal the woman was going through.

“Is Lacey sick, or is the stress getting to her?”

“The stress. She looks awful, bless her heart.” Betty sighed. “Georgia made her go home to shower, change clothes, and get some of her things to have at the hospital.”

“Lacey’s a single mom?” She recalled Will mentioning the girl only had her mother for support. Tragic really.

Betty nodded. “She tries real hard, works two jobs and goes to night school. This has devastated her.”

“Thanks for letting me know she’s here.” Chelsea entered the room, but wasn’t prepared for the sad barely out-of-her-teens girl sitting on the exam table. Lacey Donaldson had been a beautiful girl once upon a time, but she looked like someone had poked a straw into her and sucked out every drop of life. Dark circles rimmed her sunken eyes. Chalky white best described her skin pallor. She’d pulled her hair back in a tight ponytail. Overall, she looked gaunt and frail.

A worried-looking fifty-ish woman sat in the extra chair present in the exam room. Her hands folded in her lap, she sadly watched her daughter’s every move.

“Hi, Lacey. I’m Dr Chelsea Majors. Dr Will Majors is my brother. I’ve been at the clinic for a few weeks,” she said, hoping to make the young woman feel more at ease with her. “Dr Jared is in with an emergency, so I’ll be examining you.”

“I don’t need to be here,” Lacey informed h

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