18 – FRUIT OF THE POISONED TREE
REBEKKA
The next day, things were rowdy at the clinic, it looked like a fight had broken out in one of the local pubs because lots of drunk low-borns flooded the lobby of Dr Purcell’s clinic.
“Rebekka!” Dr Purcell called.
“Sir!” I answered running down the stairs and smoothening the fabric of my dress.
It looked like it was going to be a busy day today and on days like this, I usually missed my chance to eat and I hated that.
“Fetch me some warm water,” he said.
I nodded and took a stainless basin and ran to the kitchen and got some water from the central heater put there specifically for that reason and then I ran back and placed it by his side.
Dr Purcell was dealing with a nasty head injury sustained by one of the men, without intervention, that l
