Hex

It had been almost five years since Lucrezia had been to A&E. In the interim, she'd once had a cut bad enough that it required stitches, but this was while Paul Calderon was in her life, and he had stitched it up for her. She'd refused anesthetic, and as she gritted her teeth and didn't complain, he'd looked at her and that was the moment she thought she'd seen him fall in love with her. She had a small scar below her left thumb that felt like a love token now.

Even her miscarriage had been a private affair, the evidence of what had happened clear enough, and she'd called her OB-GYN and seen him straight away.

So she had managed to avoid the hospital since then, and now that she was here she found it full of unpleasant memories. She'd even tried to avoid it this time, after taking a tumble down a small set of stairs. It was embarrassing, and clumsy, and she'd turned her ankle. She thought it was likely sprained, perhaps even just bruised, but in the worst case that she'd managed to break it, she really needed to know.

She'd already wrapped it expertly in an ACE bandage. One of the many skills Paul had taught her from his time as a field medic.