The band loosens, and the needle is already gone.
But he is still there.
“Hold this,” she says, pressing gauze to my skin. My fingers tremble as she tapes a bandage over it.
She labels the tubes and says, “This won’t take long.”
“You can wait outside.”
I stand, and the room tilts just a little.
Judas is there in a second. His hands catch me and guide me back into the hallway.
As soon as we step out, I lean against the wall, my face drained.
He turns to me, cups my cheeks, his thumbs brushing my skin. His eyes drops to my arm. He gently pulls my sleeve down, covering the scars like they never existed.
Simona notices us and walks closer.
She looks at both of us before she finally asks, “Is everything okay?”
She can’t see us like this. I step back. Judas does too.
Space opens between us.
“I feel dizzy,” I say, clearing my throat.
“You look pale, kiddo.” Simona moves closer and reaches for my cheek.
Catherine appears from the middle of the corridor and rushes in, grabbing Simona’s wrist.
“Don’t touch my kids,” she says, shoving her back. “Why are you even here?”
“It’s all over the news. The accident,” Simona says. “I called around to find out where he was, and when I did, I came to see how he is.”
Catherine’s jaw tightens. Her hands curl into fists. For a moment, she is too still.
Then she moves.
“Oh, he will be better than you when I am done with you,” she says, and lunges.
Judas catches her. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her away.
“Judas, let me go. She has to learn her place.”
He signs something to her, guiding her backward as she fights him. Simona and I stand frozen, watching Catherine unravel again.
He drags her further down the hall toward the waiting room.
“Carmen,” Simona says, turning back to me. “I…”
A nurse steps out of the room, a paper in her hand.
“Any news?” Simona asks.
The nurse looks at me. “It’s a match. You have the same blood type.” She hesitates, then clears her throat. “We also noticed similarities in the sample. This might seem like an odd question, but Mrs. Harrington said you were adopted.”
“Yes,” I say, my brows pulling together. “What do you mean, similarities?”
