MIA

“You keep moving whenever the symptoms spike,” he said. “I need you to stay still long enough for me to finish checking you.”

Then his mouth is on me again. I obey. He wraps the towel loosely but securely around my wrists, knotting it so I can still feel the give but cannot easily pull free. “So you stay still for the exam,” he says, voice clinical again for half a second before it breaks. “I need both hands free.”

The strange symptoms had started again that morning, worse than before. Marcus had warned me that if they returned, he needed to examine me properly to understand what was...