Page 117 of The Boy Who Cried Bear
“What about you, Mom?” Max says. “What do you want?”
She exhales and sinks into a chair. “Part of me wants to scoop you both up and run again, but this isn’t trouble that followed us here, and that trouble is still going to be waiting for us at home. I saw how hard everyone worked to find you. The whole town pitched in, and Eric and Casey and others didn’t rest until they found you. If anything, I feel safer here now than I did before. We’re going to need to make a few changes, for my peace of mind, but if you’re okay with that, then I’m okay with staying.”
“You want me to stay away from Gunnar.”
Mom exhales again. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe if you talked to him, you wouldn’t worry so much.”
“Maybe.”
“Is going in the forest one of those things you want changed?” Max says tentatively. “You want me to stay out of it?” That’s what he’s afraid of. That after what happened, no amount of precautions will have his mother being okay with him setting foot into the woods.
“No more going in alone,” she says. “If you need time away, we’ll figure something out. Maybe ask if you can take Storm, and you tell someone where you’ll be and there’s a time limit.” She looks at him. “Would that work?”
He grins. “Definitely.”
“Okay then.” She sits up. “Let’s go get dinner. I hear it’s pizza night.”
Casey
Five Days Later
Dalton and I have come south. We’d escorted Louie, who will be looked after by Émilie, blackmailed or bribed to keep his silence about Haven’s Rock.
Now, a day later, Dalton and I sit in the poshest waiting room I have ever seen. It’s a private one, the two of us on a buttery-soft leather love seat. Jazz music wafts in at just the right level that we can only hear it if we’re quiet. A selection of fruit and pastries covers a polished wood table. The coffee maker is the kind of fancy home espresso setup that has me wondering just how many solar panels I’d need for it and how wrong it would be to use that much power to give me the perfect cup of coffee.
“I keep wondering whether this love seat pulls out into a bed,” Dalton whispers.
I arch an eyebrow.
He leans in to whisper, “A private room with coffee, bakery goodies, soft music and lighting. I feel like I’m supposed to start whispering sexy sweet nothings in your ear.”
I sputter a laugh. “Well, it is a fertility clinic.”
He takes my hand and squeezes it. I’ve had my examination by the specialist Émilie secured. Now we’re awaiting the results in this tiny room, and I’m desperately trying to enjoy the luxury surroundings and not see the multiple boxes of tissues, poised for bad news.
The door opens, and the doctor slips in. She shakes hands with Dalton, who hasn’t met her yet. I brace myself for the small talk, but thankfully, she skips that. She knows that anyone in this clinic doesn’t want to discuss the weather.
“There is physical trauma,” she says. “I know you’ve said you don’t know what happened during your assault.” Her lips tighten, betraying just a hint of emotion. “You were beaten into a coma, and you don’t know what your attackers did while you were in that state. The attending doctor focused on your life-threatening injuries and either did not investigate the possibility of sexual assault or chose to not document it. I’d like to say I’m shocked, but that would be expressing pointless outrage.”
“The choice was made,” I say. “I was in no state to question it, and all things considered, honestly, knowing afterward wouldn’t have done any good.”
“And it will still do no good, so I’ll only say that there is damage. Your concern is the chances of carrying this child to term.”
My hand tightens on Dalton’s. “Yes.”
“First, let me say the pregnancy looks normal. Everything is as it should be.”
A tremor of relief runs through me, only to be scattered by the knowledge that this is merely part of the equation.
“Can you carry to term?” she says. “I believe so. Will you carry to term with this pregnancy? That’s another matter. Can and will aren’t the same thing. But the ‘can’ is important. It means there is no health-related reason to consider ending the pregnancy. Whether you can carry to term will be up to Mother Nature.”
“But is there any danger to Casey?” Dalton says.
“Beyond the usual dangers of pregnancy,” I add.
“That’s what we come down to,” the doctor says. “The usual dangers. If you miscarry, there is always a risk. You may require a D&C to remove the fetus if it doesn’t pass on its own. That goes for every woman, and there is nothing in your situation that increases the risk. The damage could mean an increased risk of miscarriage or premature birth, which means yes, an increased risk to your health, but not in a way that would have me suggesting termination unless that was what you already wanted.”
