Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
“I’m sure you’re nervous.” He smiled in a way meant to put others at ease, but his eyes remained unchanged. “I find these moments are better when we dive right into business.” He tossed a file onto the desk and selected another one from a tidy stack. Opening it, he scanned the pages inside. “B-U-R-D-A-N?”
“Yes. Daisy Burdan.” On the file’s exterior tab, she read the number 1922.
He shut the file with a quick snap, as if he read everything he needed to see. “Please, follow me...Daisy.”
He moved quickly, leaving her several steps behind before she even made it to her feet. “Is this the blood screening?”
“Yes, among other things.” He turned into the next room.
Carpet turned to linoleum, and Daisy’s steps halted. Her heart jolted. Unbidden memories of her mother’s last visit to the hospital came hurtling back to her.
“Come in.”
She needed a second to acclimate herself. “Sorry. I’m not…” Deciding not to dump her personal trauma here, she forced her lips shut and crossed the threshold.
The exam room was clinical despite the mansion’s grandeur. White walls, bright lights, intimidating equipment. An examination table, draped with paper, stood at its center, fitted with stirrups at the foot.
Daisy’s stomach dropped.
“You can disrobe. Put this on, open in the front.” Dr. Tannhäuser handed her a thin paper garment. “Drape the blanket over your lap.”
She glanced down at the gown, confused. “I thought this was just lab work.”
“With a full exam.” He smiled again. “We want to make sure you’re in tip-top shape for this weekend, don’t we?”
“Oh.” She glanced at the gown and back to the doctor, waiting for him to leave so she could change.
He didn’t.
Instead, he moved to the counter, arranging instruments and making a quick note in her file, his back half-turned to her.
“I...” She clutched the gown against her chest. “Are you...?”
“Miss Burdan,” he said with a look of impatience. “I’ve examined thousands of patients. Your body holds no mysteries for me. If you don’t mind—I have a schedule to keep.”
Her face burned as she fumbled to tear the plastic wrapper off the paper gown. She turned and toed out of her shoes, keeping her head down and making her body small.
Cool air teased her belly as she lifted her shirt. Goosebumps rose on her flesh as a shiver chased up her spine and down her arms. Her bra joined the pile on the chair against the wall, slightly grey from washing. Her nipples tightened in the cool air, and she quickly slipped into the paper gown, closing it like a robe at the front. Once she was covered, she removed her bottoms and turned.
“Family medical history,” Dr. Tannhäuser said, still facing away.
“Pardon?”
“Any hereditary conditions? Heart disease? Cancer?”
“Pulmonary fibrosis.” Daisy’s throat tightened. “My mother…recently passed. They think it was from chemical exposure at her job.”
“I see. And your father?”
“I…I don’t know. He wasn’t around.”
She shivered in the cold, bright room, vulnerable in ways that went beyond the physical.
“Have a seat on the table.” He gestured while making a note in her file.
Daisy awkwardly perched on the edge, clutching the thin paper blanket over her thighs, the stiff material crunching loudly with every tremor.
Dr. Tannhäuser twisted from the counter, his eyes traveling over her with professional detachment that somehow felt anything but professional. “Let’s begin.”
The blood pressure was quick and only slightly elevated. Her temperature was normal. When he pressed the cold stethoscope against her chest, under the paper gown, she stopped breathing.
“Deep breath in.”
She forced herself to inhale, her ribs expanding as his touch moved lower.
“Out.” His cologne reminded her of leather and cedar. “Good. Again.”
Another breath in and out.
He removed the stethoscope so abruptly, scribbling another clinical note in her file.
It was ridiculous to be this nervous. “Sorry. I’m not used to doctors.”
“No? That’s okay. We’re almost finished. Let’s get your weight and height.”
She stood on the scale in the corner, the old-fashioned kind with a sliding counterweight.
“Hold still.” His body heat warmed her back through the thin paper gown as he adjusted the weights. “Five feet five inches, one hundred six pounds.” His tone shifted to disapproval. “Underweight. Not dangerously so, but notable. We’ll need to ensure you’re properly fed during your stay.” He set a basket of vials on the metal tray and patted the table. “Up you go.”
She couldn’t seem to settle, and her heart was beating harder than usual.
“Make a fist.”
He tied a tourniquet around her arm and tightened it so the skin bulged. She sucked in a breath when the needle sank into her skin, then he released the band from her arm and drew several samples of her blood. It was over quickly, ending with a small piece of cotton taped over the puncture mark.
“Hard part’s over. Lie back.”
She stiffly reclined on the table, the paper gown crunching loudly with every shift. His eyes traveled down her body, his hands gently uncrossing her wrists from her chest, placing them at her side. “Twenty-two, right?”