Morgan’s whole body went cold.
“No.”
“You need medical attention. The cuts on your arms are showing signs of infection, and based on your physical presentation, you’re severely dehydrated?—”
“Please.” She was shaking now. She could feel it starting in her hands and spreading outward, a tremor she couldn’t control. “I don’t want anyone else touching me.”
Binary stopped walking. She felt him adjust his hold, felthim looking down at her even though she couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay. No one touches you without your permission. I’ll make sure of it. But just let Annie take a look at you, okay? She’s very gentle.”
The study was smaller than she’d expected. Warmer. A woman stood near a leather sofa, medical bag open on the coffee table, hands clasped in front of her. Late fifties, maybe early sixties. Gray-streaked hair pulled back from a face that had the particular patience of someone who’d spent decades dealing with people in crisis.
Binary set Morgan down on the sofa. Her legs wouldn’t hold her—she knew that without trying—so she didn’t attempt to stand. Just sat there, hands fisted in her lap, unable to stop cataloging exits and distances.
“Hi, I’m Annie.” Her voice was calm. Unhurried. She took a step forward, hand extended.
Morgan flinched back before she could stop herself.
Annie’s hand dropped immediately. She retreated to where she’d been standing, expression shifting into something careful. “Okay. No touching until you’re ready.”
Morgan nodded.
“I know this is hard,” Annie said. She hadn’t moved closer. Hadn’t reached for her instruments. Just stood there, giving Morgan space. “You’ve been through something terrible, and the last thing you need is more strangers putting their hands on you. But I do need to assess your injuries—make sure nothing is critical. Can we work out a way to do that?”
Morgan’s gaze darted to Binary. He was standing near the door, arms crossed, watching the interaction with an expression she couldn’t read.
“Is it okay if we have Lincoln wait outside? I think youmight feel more comfortable if it’s just us girls for a few minutes. Then he can come back.”
“Lincoln,” Morgan whispered. Binary’s name was Lincoln.
Annie looked confused. “Yes, Lincoln. Is that okay?”
He moved from the door and came to crouch in front of her. He gave her space, didn’t crowd her, but made it so they were eye to eye.
“My real name is Lincoln.”
“My name is Morgan.”
“Morgan.” He said it like he was trying it out, tasting the syllables on his tongue. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She nodded. The words should’ve felt silly, given the number of hours they’d spent talking to each other, but they didn’t.
“I’ll be right outside the door, okay? Annie is the best doctor I’ve ever known, and I would trust—have trustedher—with my life.”
“Okay. Please stay right there, though.”
“I will not move from that door. I promise.”
It was enough. She nodded, and he was gone.
Annie waited until Morgan looked at her again. “I’m going to tell you everything before I do it. Every touch, every instrument, every step. You say stop, we stop. Deal?”
Morgan’s hands were still shaking. She pressed them flat against her thighs, trying to make them behave.
“Deal.”
The examination was slow.
