Bruno’s point of view
The door to the room opened, and the doctor stepped out quietly, closing it behind him. He was a careful man, he had been the family doctor for years. His eyes met mine and I saw something in them that wasn’t clinical. Pity. The kind that doctors train themselves not to show and sometimes fail at.
“How is she?” I asked. He held his clipboard with both hands. “Physically, she will recover. The bruising is extensive but nothing is broken. She’s dehydrated and malnourished, but I have her on a drip. I found some lacerations that needed cleaning and about two places that needed stitches. I did the necessary stitches, but she refused further examination to confirm the pregnancy loss. I didn’t push.”
“Thank you,” I said. He held my gaze for a moment, longer than neces
