Chapter One Hundred-Forty-Three

The medical facility was sterile and cold. Bea sat on the examination table while her father stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the medical team assemble their equipment.

A nurse approached with scissors. “We’ll need to cut off your clothing, Miss Hawthorne. It’ll be easier than trying to—”

“No.” Bea’s hand shot out, gripping the woman’s wrist. “I’m not letting you cut my clothes off.”

The nurse