BEX - THIS IS THE LINE
I’m halfway through catching up on my backlog of charting when the charge nurse knocks lightly on the break room door.
“There’s someone asking for you,” she says, looking over her shoulder down the hall and then back at me she lowers her voice adding. “She didn’t want to register.”
People who don’t want to register either don’t trust the system… or don’t want someone to know they’re here.
“Name?” I ask.
“She didn’t give one.”
That in itself wasn’t odd, but add in that she came looking specifically for me. I took a deep breath and tried to smooth my crinkled scrubs and follow her down the back hall instead of through the main ER entrance. Fluorescent lights hum overhead.
I try to school my reaction when I walk into exam room three and see someone I definitely didn’t expect.
Mara Calder doesn’t look like the club princess today, her dark hair is pulled into a low knot and she isn’t wearing any makeup. My eyes trail over the long sleeve shirt she is wearing despite the heat. Her posture is perfect, chin up, shoulders squared, but her fingers are twisted tight in the hem of her shirt.
“Hi,” I say gently, closing the door behind me.
“I don’t want this logged,” she says immediately, her voice is calm but her eyes have a frantic edge to them.
“It won’t be,” I tell her. “We’ll keep this out of the system if that is what you need.”
She nods once, her eyes going to the floor.
“What happened?” I ask already knowing I likely won’t get the truth.
“I fell.” Her answer is automatic, comes too fast.
I step closer seeing swelling just under her cheekbone and faint discolouration near the edge of her jaw. Her wrist looks inflamed.
“Mara?” I say her name quietly so anyone outside the room won’t hear, but there's a question to it.
She looks at me then and she looks exhausted.
“It was an argument,” she says quietly. “He lost his temper.”
He.
We both know who that is.
Razor.
“It was my fault,” she adds. “I… I caught him with Kori and was upset.”
I guided her to the exam table and checked her wrist first. It’s sprained, not broken. But the bruising on her face is recent.
“He… he reminded me that it’s his right as a brother to be with the club girls… that’s what they are there for.”
His right… like cheating is ok as long as it’s with a girl who is passed around the club and called culture. I swallow my response and try to keep my face neutral.
“Does your brother know you’re here?” I ask.
Her eyes sharpen. “No.”
I need to know if this goes beyond Razor, if the club president knows that his sister is being abused under his roof.
“Does he know about this?” I ask.