The Last Cauldron
Chapter Two: When Tomorrow Comes (part 2)
A little while later, Dr. Thorne made his way into Giana’s hospital room. He stood by the foot of the bed, holding a medical chart. Giana sat propped up against the pillows. She watched him, her posture tense but her face a mask of polite exhaustion.
“Good evening, Ms….? How may I address you? Ms. Doe?” asked Dr. Thorne.
“Giana. Call me Giana,” she interjected.
“Then Giana it is. Lovely to make your acquaintance. I must apologize for the delay in getting you cleared and your discharge paperwork finalized in a timely manner. But, before we finalize your paperwork and get you out of here, I need to gather some critical intake information. We obviously couldn’t get any of it earlier, because you were completely unconscious when you were brought in,” said Dr. Thorne, his tone carrying the efficient edge of a well-seasoned medical professional.
Giana offered a faint, accommodating smile. She didn’t blink. “Of course. Ask away, Doctor… ”
She trailed off, intentionally omitting his name, waiting to see if he’ll notice. Dr. Thorne didn’t notice. He was busy recording something on the chart.
“Great. Let’s start with the basics for the database. Full legal name, date of birth, and home address?” said Dr. Thorne.
“Simply Giana works just fine for now, doesn’t it? I’m a bit of a private person. And honestly, my head is still foggy from the sedatives. I can barely remember my own name.”
Dr. Thorne suspended his writing. He looked up from the chart, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her face.
“Right. Well, I still need a medical history. Do you know if you have any pre-existing conditions? Or perhaps you recognize me from a previous consultation? Your chart mentioned you looked familiar to some of the staff,” said Dr. Thorne, trying to gauge her thought process.
Giana maintained her easy smile, though her fingers quietly tightened on the bedsheet beneath the blanket. A dangerous inkling of his identity surfaced.
“No, I don’t think so. I have one of those faces, I suppose. And I rarely visit hospitals. I’m usually very careful about who I trust with my health,” responded Giana.
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Dr. Thorne smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Trust is hard to come by these days. I understand. Still, the database requires a complete profile before I can sign your release.”
Giana’s easy smile still had not faded from her face, though her mind raced.
She remembered Nurse Maria and how strange her uniform was. The crisp white, high-collared dress, the pinafore apron, the stockings, specialized white duty shoes, and a pleated nurse’s cap. A relic. Even in primitive realms that still think of magic as fiction, nurses in hospitals within Omnia hadn’t worn that disturbing ensemble in over a century. It was a glaring chronological error in an otherwise flawless production. Then there was the blinding headache and the heavy, sluggish feeling in her muscles. A drug. It had to be.
Still, the smile remained as she looked directly at Thorne.
“I don’t know, doctor. I guess I’m still affected by the sedatives,” said Giana.
“Well, yes. sedatives can cause temporary retrograde amnesia, but surely you must remember something,” said Dr. Thorne.
“I don’t know what to tell you. My name is all I remember,” said Giana, her mind actively shifting to find ways to escape whatever sort of trap this was.
Thorne stared at her, searching her face for any sign of deception. He found none. Giana’s power was a marvelous thing. While she couldn’t control it or understand it at all times, it was entirely instinctual. It stepped in and protected her when she needed it most, masking her thoughts even without her knowing.
“Well, let’s see if we can jog your memory. How did you get to my neck of the woods, Giana?” asked Dr. Thorne, hinting at something much deeper.
Giana shifted slightly against the pillows, her mind perfectly sharp beneath her feigned confusion. She remembered everything. She knew exactly who she was. She was just trying to figure out what Thorne and his Nurse Maria wanted from her.
Before she could manufacture an answer, the heavy door clicked open. Nurse Maria burst into the room, her eyes wide with panic.
“Dr. Thorne, I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’re needed in the ICU immediately,” Maria said, her voice breathless. “It’s an emergency.”
Thorne’s brow furrowed in frustration, but he nodded quickly. “Excuse me, Giana. We will finish this shortly.”
He turned on his heel and swept out of the room, Maria following close behind. The heavy door clicked shut, leaving Giana alone in the unsettling quiet of ‘her prison’.
