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“Just stand still, stupid horse,” she whispered in a soothing voice. She glanced around, didn’t see anyone, and pulled the small buzzer out of her pocket. It was about the size of a cigarette lighter and it easily slipped underneath the back of the saddle against the horse’s flank. The horse turned and looked toward her, ears flicking back and forth.
“Oh you’ll be fine,” Bethany muttered, taping the small device in place. “People use these things on race horses all the time.” Sure it was illegal but God, if those stupid animal rights activists had their way, everyone would be, like, eating tofu and kale for every meal.
Bethany pulled the remote out of her pocket to test the buzzer. Before she could, though, she heard voices coming her way.
“Shit.” She slipped through the bars of the stall and down the hall before anyone could see her.
She smiled as she took the long way around to the arena seating. She couldn’t wait to watch the show.
33
CALLA
Calla was jogging back toward where she’d left Painter stalled and almost ran into the back end of a horse.
“Oh!” she said, pulling up short as the horse and two people leading it turned to look at her.
“Dr. Nunez?”
A young woman stood beside her. The doctor’s daughter, Calla bet.
“Calla.” Dr. Nunez’s eyes lit up at seeing her but then she averted her gaze like she’d just remembered something.
Like that Calla was her patient and they had an appointment next week to reveal Calla’s test results.
“Did the results come back already?”
Dr. Nunez head jerked up to Calla and then she quickly looked away again. “It’s good to see you, Calla. Good luck today. Come on, Savannah.” She pulled on the horse’s reins like that’s how she meant to leave it.
Holy shit. Calla grabbed her elbow. “If you know, you have to tell me. Please,” she begged. “Think about if it was your daughter. I have to know.” Maybe a low blow, but God, the knowledge about Calla’s entire future could be standing right in front of her.
Dr. Nunez’s eyes flicked toward her daughter. “‘Vannah, why don’t you take Mariposa back down to her stall. I’ll be right there.”
Savannah nodded and led the horse further down the tunnel back toward the temporary stalls.
Calla squeezed Dr. Nunez’s arm. “Please.”
Dr. Nunez sighed, then looked around them. Behind them, cheers and applause came from the arena.
“This is completely unprofessional. And you’re about to compete. The last thing I should be—”
“So I have it?” Calla pressed. “I tested positive? Is that what you’re saying?” She knew it. She’d been stupid to think for even a second that—
“No,” Dr. Nunez exclaimed. Then she pressed her eyes shut a moment before opening them again and pulling Calla off to the side of the tunnel hallway. Her eyes gentled. “Your test came back negative for Huntingtons.”
Negative?
Calla collapsed back against the wall, blinking in shock.
“Not only that,” Dr. Nunez smiled gently, “but your CAG repeats were so low, there’s no chance any of your offspring will have it either.”
Calla choked and then bent over, hands on her stomach.
She couldn’t believe her ears. Did she—
She shot up straight. “You’re sure? There’s no chance—?”
“None,” Dr. Nunez assured her.
