“I’m going to check your blood pressure.”
“You know, doctor,” she says while I wrap the cuff around her arm, “you’re much younger than Dr. McKinnon.”
Ah.
There it is.
“Yes, I am.”
“But I don’t mind. Youth brings fresh perspectives, doesn’t it?”
I focus on the reading.
One twenty-eight over seventy-eight.
Slightly elevated, but nothing remotely alarming for a woman her age.
“Your blood pressure looks fine,” I say while removing the cuff. “No immediate signs of concern.”
“How reassuring.”
She smiles at me.
That smile makes me uneasy.
There’s something... calculating about it.
“You’re staying at the village boarding house, aren’t you?” she asks.
I pack away my equipment, thrown off by the abrupt shift in topic.
“Uh... yes. Temporarily.”
“Oh, but that’s quite far from the medical clinic. And I imagine the rooms are rather small. Not especially comfortable for a man your size.”
I’m not even particularly tall.
Six feet at most.
“It’s... adequate.”
“Adequately uncomfortable, you mean.”
She laughs softly like she’s just made the funniest joke imaginable.
I sit back down, confused.
Something about this doesn’t add up.
The symptoms she described—palpitations, dizziness, chest pain—should leave traces. Elevated blood pressure. Irregular heartbeat. Something.
But there’s nothing.
“Maggie,” I say slowly, “are you still experiencing the palpitations now?”
“No, not at all. You must’ve scared them away with your magical stethoscope.”
She winks at me.
