Page 58 of The Harbinger
“Mia,” Sacha’s gravelly voice cut through the chaos. “Breathe.”
His command loosened the cinch around my lungs, and I exhaled. The pressure in my head eased.
“What is your full name?” Dr. Sergei asked.
“Mia.”
“Where are you from?”
I scratched around my brain, searching for the answer, but the sticky black space sat like a void. “I don’t know.”
“Do you know what day it is?”
“I think it’s Friday?” I hadn’t exactly been paying attention to the days.
“When is your birthday?”
“I don’t know.”
The machine continued with the sounds, and his line of questioning pulled nothing from my head that I didn’t already know.
How was this helpful?
He turned off the machine, and my table moved out of the tube, my ears ringing after what felt like hours of questions and digital noise.
“Well done, Mia,” Dr. Sergei said at my side.
The bright lights stabbed at my eyes, and I squinted.
Dr. Sergei removed the cage around my head as Sacha appeared at my other side, then helped me sit up.
“I have a few other tests I’d like to run on you.”
“What other tests?”
“A psychological exam and more blood work.”
“I’m not crazy.” I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and placed my slippered feet onto the tiled floor. “And what more do you need to test with my blood? That’s not the problem.”
“No. No. Of course not. But it can help us better understand what may have caused such memory loss.”
The sliver of energy I had before drained into the floor at the thought of sitting in a room telling a psychologist the same thing I had told Dr. Sergei. How much progress could one make if one couldn’t recollect the inciting incident? “I’ll think about it.”
“One other thing,” he said as he glanced at the nurse who walked in with something in her hand. “Are you allergic to any medications?”
I raised my eyebrow and narrowed my gaze at him, silently questioning his statement.
“Right. Well…” He took a capped needle, examined the vial she brought with it, and nodded to the woman. “You shouldn’t experience any side-effects, but if you do, they’ll be mild.”
He stepped toward me, and my stomach lurched. “What is it?”
“Raise your gown sleeve, Mia, and do as he says.”
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Dr. Sergei said as he tore the alcohol pad, then uncapped the needle.
I gulped, my heart racing in my chest, and did as he said. Dr. Sergei wouldn’t do anything to harm me. He had an oath.
Do they have the same oath here as in America—to do no harm?I’m sure Sacha could pay him a boatload of money to get him to do whatever he wanted.