She pulled my shirt away from my shoulder, and started ripping off the band-aids. She gasped and the scissors clunked to the ground.
I looked over my shoulder. The nurse’s plump, rosy cheeks had gone sheet white. “What? What is it? What’s wrong with my shoulder?” I glanced at Mom, but she only shrugged.
The nurse backed out of the room and didn’t turn away from us until she was halfway down the hall. Her clogs clunked on the floor as she started to run.
Forcing myself to take slower, deeper breaths, I gathered up the courage and twisted until I could see it. The cuts weren’t bleeding anymore. They were an angry red and didn’t have scabs yet, but puss wasn’t seeping from them. “It doesn’t look that bad. Why is she freaking out?”
My dad leaned down to brush a kiss over my forehead. “I don’t know, honey.” He peeked at the cuts. “How did you say you got those cuts again?”
A doctor in his white lab coat came into our makeshift room before I could answer.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Schel.” He was tall and thin, with dark circles under his eyes. Someone was overworked. He slid the curtain closed behind him. “Nurse Tilden filled me in, but I’m sure she must be misunderstanding something. I need to see the scratches on your back, if that’s alright.” He frowned. “And what’s that on your lip?”
“It’s a bite,” I answered as softly as I could manage. My cheeks burned. I could never look my father in the eyes again. Never. Again.
Dr. Schel walked around the bed. The sound of his throat clearing startled me. He suddenly smelled just like the nurse.
“I’ve never seen scratches quite like those. How exactly did you get them?”
This was beyond mortifying. I couldn’t say in front of Dad. Especially if Mom hadn’t already spilled the beans.
“I’m sure you won’t get in any trouble. Right?” Dr. Schel looked at Dad.
“Of course she’s not in trouble. She’s hurt.” Dad came to stand in front of me and patted my leg. “Go ahead. He’s here to help, but you have to tell the truth.”
“I never lie, Dad.” He stared me down until I started talking. Still, I couldn’t tell him that it was a teacher, even if he was only a couple years older than me. “I was kissing a guy who used to go to St. Ailbe’s—”
Dr. Schel held up his hand. “You’re absolutely sure that he was connected with St. Ailbe’s?”
“Yes, but—” I stopped talking as the doctor took a slow step away from me. What was wrong with this place? He jerked his gaze to the floor and cleared his throat again. The stink of fear increased, radiating from him. I wanted to plug my nose, but that would’ve been rude.
“Unfortunately, it seems the nurse wasn’t misunderstanding anything. I’m sorry, but we’re not going to be able to help you here,” he said.
“What do you mean you’re not going to be able to help her? This is a hospital, for Christ’s sake!” Dad’s face had gone red and his fists were clenched.
“There’s nothing I can do for her. That anyone can do for her,” he said.
“Of course there’s something you can do for her. She has a fever of 108, goddamn it. She needs some antibiotics for whatever infection is giving her the fever. And some more Tylenol and fluids. Even I know this shit and I’m not a damn doctor!”
“I’m sorry. I truly am. But no doctor can fix what’s wrong with your daughter.”
What did he mean no doctor could fix me?
He held up his hands to stop us from moving. “Please. Please, wait here. Stay calm. I promise you that she’s fine for the moment. I’m going to get someone who can help you. A specialist.” He took some hurried backward steps and slid to the other side of the curtain.
Dad suddenly walked around the bed and stared at my back.
“Dad?”
“Oh, Christ Almighty.”
I twisted to look at him.
“You’re sure that it was someone from St. Ailbe’s that did this?”
I nodded.
“It was Dastien, the teacher that came to the house the day we got here,” Mom said.