Page 48 of Wicked Elites

“The girls from my academy.” I raised my head and stared at the wall behind the doctors. “They brought me to an initiation ceremony.”

“You volunteered for this?” asked the Geraldine lookalike.

The consultant gave her a sharp glare. Probably for judging me for my predicament.

“My sister wanted to join the girls. But they dragged me out of bed and brought me along to test whether she would pick them or me.”

The consultant pursed her lips. “Regardless of whether a man or a woman conducted the attack, it’s still sexual assault, which you have the option to report.”

“Do you consent to a forensic medical examination?” asked the doctor on the right.

I inhaled a sharp breath through my nostrils and blinked back my surprise. Right now, my thoughts were so jumbled, I couldn’t think straight.

An ache struck my heart. At times like this, when someone’s comments or actions had caused me pain, Mom would give me a warm hug and tell me that their words and actions reflected on themselves. That happy, balanced people didn’t go around hurting others.

My shoulders curled, and I dipped my head. I wished she was here.

“Willow?”

I exhaled. “If I hae the examination, will everybody know?”

“That’s entirely up to you. But we recommend you have the exam within seven days, as it can provide vital evidence if you decide to press charges, and the case goes to court.”

“There’s no pressure,” added the consultant. “You have seven days, but given what was put inside you, I would advise you to proceed straight away.”

I stared up at the trio of doctors, my jaw slackening. “I’m still stuffed with pork ribs?”

“We removed as much of the raw meat as we could to prevent an infection,” said the consultant. “If we removed everything else, there might not be enough evidence to prosecute.”

My lungs tightened, and I forced breaths in and out of my nostrils. My intimate parts were still riddled with mud and raw meat. Was this even standard medical practice? Or were they freaking out because they couldn’t handle a case like mine?

“Why didn’t you conduct this forensic exam while I was unconscious?” I rasped.

“I’m sorry,” said the consultant. “We couldn’t proceed without your consent. You don’t have to involve the police at any stage. The evidence will be stored until you make up your mind.”

I glanced down at my clasped hands and sighed. Right now, I just wanted this raw meat gone.

The consultant glanced at the computer screen. “Regardless of what you choose, we’ll keep you overnight for observation and discharge you in the morning. Leave the contact details of your next of kin with the nurse, and we’ll give them a call on your behalf.”

I nodded. “I’ll consent to the forensic exam.”

* * *

I dozed for a few more minutes, then a lady with a trolley offered me toast and a hot drink. I said yes to the tea and sipped the warm, soothing liquid while trying not to think about bacteria and viruses and parasites multiplying in my organs.

Instead, I focussed every ounce of my indignation on Ashley and those wretched girls she so desperately wanted to join.

Even if I didn’t report them to the police, I needed to make them pay for what they had done — every one of them, down to my so-called twin.

Maybe this was the reason Cormac and Miss Claymore worked so hard to stamp out bullying. I blew out a long sigh. If I terrorized those girls, it would escalate into a war that would make their lives difficult. Maybe I needed to report them to the police and let the authorities deal with them.

Their parents would be horrified at the scandal, and I was sure that a senior lawyer and a prominent official in the World Bank would dish out greater punishments than I could devise.

“Willow!” The door flew open, and Uncle Trevor rushed into the room. “When the hospital called, we feared the worst.”

Aunt Hortense waddled in behind him, holding a belly that looked like it could be carrying triplets. “I thought they were calling about Ashley. What are you doing here?”

“It was a hazing that went too far,” I muttered.