The Invasion of the Tearling (The Queen of the Tearling #2)(13)

Two nurses came hurrying out of the back office with a wheelchair and helped the woman slide into it. She clasped her swollen belly with both hands, as though trying to hold something in. Lily saw tears trickling from the corners of her eyes, and then the nurses pushed her through the door, to the examining rooms beyond.

“Can I help you?”

Lily turned to the receptionist, a young brunette with an impersonal smile.

“Lily Mayhew. I have an appointment.”

“Wait, please, until we call you.”

There were no seats left but the newly vacated chair, its light green cushion soaked with blood. Lily couldn’t bring herself to sit there, so she leaned against the wall, stealing covert glances at the people around her. A woman and a teenage girl, clearly mother and daughter, sat in two nearby chairs. The girl was anxious, her mother was not, and Lily read their dynamic easily. She had felt the same way the first time Mom had brought her to this office, understanding that it was a rite of passage, but also that it had to be kept secret, that what went on here was a crime. Lily hated this appointment, hated this office, the necessity of it, but at the same time she was utterly grateful for this place, that there were people who didn’t fear Greg, all the Gregs of this world.

But it was a mistake to think of Greg now; Lily felt as though he were looking over her shoulder, and the idea made her forehead break out in sweat. Each year she came here made it more likely that she would get caught, if not by Security then by Greg himself. Greg wanted children in the same way he had wanted a new BMW, the same way he wanted Lily to wear her diamond-studded watch. Greg wanted children so he could show them off to the world. All of their friends had at least two children already, some even three or four, and the wives gave Lily pitying looks at the club, at parties. These looks didn’t hurt at all, but Lily had to pretend that they did. A few times she had even drummed up some tears, small tantrums for Greg’s benefit, solid evidence of sorrow over her failure as a wife. Once upon a time Lily had wanted children, but that seemed very distant now, an entire lifetime that had happened to someone else. Greg was the one who had suggested that Lily go to a fertility clinic, not knowing she’d been coming to Dr. Davis for years, not knowing that he had just made things that much easier for her to hide in plain sight.

After an eternity, Dr. Anna leaned out the glass door and called Lily’s name. She led Lily into an office and drew the curtain, leaving her with the inevitable paper gown. Dr. Anna was Dr. Davis’s wife, a woman well into her fifties. She was one of the few women doctors Lily had ever met. Lily had mostly been too young to understand the Frewell Laws; President Frewell’s term in office had begun when Lily was eight and ended when she was sixteen. But his laws had left their legacy, and medical schools rarely admitted women anymore. Lily, who could no more have let a strange man look between her legs than she could have gone outside naked, was grateful that there was a Dr. Anna at all, but Dr. Anna had the constantly irritated face of the old-time schoolmarm, and she always seemed annoyed at Lily for being there, for taking her away from something more important. She asked Lily the routine questions, making notes on her clipboard, while Lily worked at tucking the paper gown more tightly around her, trying to cover as much skin as possible.

“Do you need more pills?”

“Please.”

“A whole year’s worth?”

“Yes.”

“How will you pay?”

Lily dug inside her purse and produced two thousand dollars in cash. Greg had given it to her for shopping last weekend, and Lily had poked the money through a hole in the lining of her purse, then lied and said she’d bought herself a pair of shoes. The hole in her purse had come in handy several times in the past year, when Greg had taken to making unscheduled inspections of her things. She had no idea what he was looking for; when he found nothing, he would give Lily an odd, cheated look, the look of the store clerk who had failed to catch someone shoplifting. The inspections were unsettling, but that look worried Lily even more.

Dr. Anna took the cash and slipped it into her pocket, and then they went on to the messy, unpleasant business of the exam itself, which Lily endured by gritting her teeth, staring at the cheap plaster tiles on the ceiling, and thinking of the nursery. She and Greg had no children, but Lily had furnished the nursery just after their marriage, back when things were different. The nursery was the only place in their house that belonged entirely to Lily, where she could really be alone. Greg needed people around him, needed someone to respond to him. Nowhere in the house was safe; he might come barging into any room at any time without knocking, seeking attention. But he never came into the nursery.

When Dr. Anna had sent out all of the various tools and swabs, she told Lily, “The receptionist will tell you your test results, and she’ll have your pills together. Just give her your name.”

“Thank you.”

Dr. Anna went for the door, but paused just before opening it and turned around, her schoolteacher’s face set in its default expression of pinched disapproval. “You know, it won’t ever get better on its own.”

“What won’t?”

“Him.” Dr. Anna’s eyes dropped to the ring on Lily’s finger. “Your husband.”

Lily clutched the hem of the paper gown more tightly between her fingers. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do. I see over five hundred women a month in here. The bruises don’t lie.”