Him, His Uncle And I!

Full of vitality

Rebecca's pov

I closed the door behind me, standing awkwardly in the middle of Dr. Jenna’s office as she remained absorbed in her paperwork, scribbling something on the page while standing. Her focus was so intense, it felt like she had completely forgotten I was even there. So, I just stood, observing her space.

It was my first time being in a human hospital—let alone a human doctor’s office. The room was neat, spacious, with walls painted in calming shades of white and blue. Dr. Jenna’s desk was orderly too, with stacks of paperwork arranged methodically. It was so different from the healer's office back at the packhouse. The pack's healers preferred a more natural approach—wooden shelves, herbs hanging from the rafters, candles, and incense. This place, though... everything was pristine, modern, and almost clinical in a way I wasn’t used to.

I shifted my weight, feeling the tension in my muscles after that long climb up the stairs. Just when I was starting to feel like an invisible presence, Dr. Jenna’s voice broke the silence.

“Are you still standing there?” she asked, still not looking up from her papers. “Go wait for me in the examination room next door. I’m almost done.”

I blinked, unsure of what she meant. “Examination office?” I repeated, confused.

“Yeah, through that door. Are you pretending, or do you really have no idea?” Dr. Jenna stopped signing the paper and finally looked up, her expression a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Didn’t Nurse Hilda say anything?”

I flushed, embarrassed. “N-no, she said something... th-through this door?” I asked, pointing toward the door she’d indicated.

Dr. Jenna simply nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and I quickly darted toward it.

Honestly, Nurse Hilda had said a lot of things, but I had barely paid attention. Once she gave me the directions to Dr. Jenna’s office and the name, I zoned out. My body had been so drained from everything, I didn’t want to waste my energy on anything else.

I stepped into the examination room, which was just as neat as Dr. Jenna’s office, but now I felt like I was on display. I sat down, trying to steady my breathing, but my heart was still racing from the climb, the nerves, and the endless unknowns.

Five minutes later, Dr. Jenna walked in. I expected her to take a seat beside me, maybe to ask me more questions, but instead, she wheeled over a machine with the letters "BP" clearly visible on it.

She placed a cuff around my arm and began taking my blood pressure without a word. My stomach twisted.

This wasn’t just a quick chat. She was running tests on me. She followed that up with a scale, measuring my weight, then came more equipment—needles, more tests, more measuring. With each new step, my anxiety grew.

What was happening? Was something wrong with me? Why was she doing all these tests? Did Nurse Hilda tell her I was sick?

“I’m not sick,” I blurted out, my voice dry as I swallowed hard.

Dr. Jenna paused, looking at me with mild surprise, as though she hadn’t even noticed I was speaking. “Sorry, did you say something?” She smiled, clearly not offended by my sudden comment.

I felt a wave of embarrassment crash over me. I had been brave enough to speak up the first time, but now... it felt awkward to repeat myself. “N-nothing,” I muttered, looking away. It wasn’t because of the needle in her hand that was inching closer to my arm.

Dr. Jenna’s smile never wavered. “Oh, no, feel free to speak up. I might have been a bit out of it because of my own issues, but I’ll listen.”

I cleared my throat, gathering my courage. “Oh, ahem, I said... that I’m not sick,” I repeated, still not meeting her gaze.

Dr. Jenna raised an eyebrow and laughed softly, shaking her head. “Oh, honey, I know that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” Her smile was bright and reassuring.

I was left confused. If I wasn’t sick, why was she poking me with needles and running all these tests?

Before I could voice my growing frustration, Dr. Jenna spoke again. “Sorry, but how old are you, honey?”

“18,” I replied, still trying to make sense of everything. “Just turned 18.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” she murmured as she jotted down something in her notes. Her eyes flickered to me for a moment, then back to her paperwork. She didn’t seem to be in any rush, but there was a palpable sense of urgency in her movements, as though she had a schedule to keep.

I opened my mouth to ask, but before I could, she looked up, her smile widening. "What do you mean?" I asked, still unsure about what was going on.

Dr. Jenna smiled brightly. "It means you are full of vitality," she said in an almost sing-song voice.