The Gender Lie by Bella Forrest

Author:Bella Forrest [Forrest, Bella]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2016-12-31T00:00:00+00:00

22

Violet

I was physically and emotionally drained as I trudged up the stairs. I had spent the last three hours doing everything I could to help clear the wreckage that my brother had caused, and it still didn’t seem like I had done enough to help.

After a long discussion with Desmond, we had decided that, for the time being, my brother was to remain confined to the room downstairs that had been used for Viggo’s interrogation. Tim wasn’t allowed to leave without me and one other Liberator to go with him, and even then, he could only go with special permission from Desmond.

Owen and Quinn had helped me carry him downstairs, and Quinn had been kind enough to offer to go upstairs and get Samuel and the blankets Tim had been using to form his little nest on the floor. I had been surprised at his offer, and told him not to worry about it, but he insisted. Owen told me that it was because Quinn felt guilty—he had reacted to Tim’s step toward me as an act of aggression, and had been trying to stop Tim from hurting me. I guessed I couldn’t blame him. A part of me wanted to, though.

I had pushed that part aside—there was no blaming anyone. The reports that came in were that my brother had slipped down to grab a snack. Apparently Henrik had approached him, and said a few words to him—no one was sure what though—but apparently Tim had been smiling a little bit.

Until Henrik clapped him on the shoulder. The reports around this were murky—some people said it was a light punch, others said that Henrik was picking something off Tim’s shirt. Everyone agreed that Henrik had touched him, and that’s what had triggered the violent reaction in Tim.

I ran a hand over my face. Tim’s condition made him physically hurt when anyone touched him. Apparently it was a genetic disorder that confused the senses, and in Tim’s case, made touch cause physical pain. I could just imagine what had happened to Tim, and how confused it would make him when he woke up.

Dr. Tierney had assured me I had a few hours before that happened, which was why I was making my way back upstairs. I needed something positive at the moment, and there was only one face in the world that could make me feel better—even if it was attached to a dry sense of humor and a surly disposition.

I stepped through the door on the top level and saw Dr. Tierney closing the door to one of the patient’s rooms. I raised my hand —the left one, not the right because it still hurt—and approached her. “Hey Doc. How is everyone?”

Dr. Tierney mustered up a smile. “Everyone’s going to be okay,” she said. Her eyes moved to where I was awkwardly cradling my shoulder. “How are you?”

I gave her a half shrug. “I didn’t want to bother you. I think it’s fine—it doesn’t feel dislocated.”

Her eyebrow arched and she looked impressed.

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