Page 66 of Wicked Ruin

“Right,” says Cavin, as he turns and walks away. “I’ll check in and see what’s going on here. See if we got any leads.”

I’m sitting in the hospital chair when my phone vibrates with a text. I expect to see Erin or Bronwyn, or somebody checking on Declan—but I'm not even sure who knows yet.

I blink in surprise when I see it’s Dr. Rosenberg.

Dr. R

So sorry for the late hour, but I'm in a different time zone and I've only just had a chance to see these messages.

I thought you weren't going to be back in the office for a couple of weeks?

Dr. R

Haha I’m not. But when a McCarthy is asking something of me, nothing else matter.

I frown at the screen.

Which McCarthy reached out to you?

Dr. R:

Cavin and Declan. But it’s fine, Bridget. Tell me what’s going on.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

I’m really sorry to bother you.

Dr. R

Don't be. The McCarthys compensate me very well, I assure you. Now please tell me your symptoms. How are you feeling right now?

I’m nervous I'm having a flare-up. I’ve been nauseous. An emotional wreck. I'm vomiting a lot.

Dr. R

Are your breasts tender? Any trouble sleeping? Food aversions?

I answer yes to all three, my fingers moving faster than my thoughts.

He replies quickly.

Dr. R

Any unexplained bleeding or bruising?

Only a little but less than I'd expect with a flare, honestly

Dr. R

Any heightened sensitivity to smells? Fatigue beyond your usual baseline?

Yes, and yes.

A pause. Longer than his usual response time.

Dr. R

Your latest labs show no concern whatsoever meaning the chances of a potential flare-up are slim. When was the date of your last period?