Chapter ThreeDARKNESS ALL AROUND.
Whitney was conscious of being conscious, a state that’s incredibly hard to describe. She was flat on her back. Where? On the ground? On a stretcher? She felt people all around her, hands on her skin. Checking her vital signs. Paramedics? She could only hope so.
A distant yet familiar voice cut through the white noise that filled her ears: Norma telling the paramedics, “She’s one ‘a those transgenders, if it makes any difference.”
“Thank you,” said a compassionate yet professional voice.
“I’m not saying that in a judge-y way,” Norma went on. “Not judge-y at all. Only, I don’t know if there’s something special you got to do with transgenders. Medically.”
Good Lord, that woman! She couldn’t keep herself from budding in.
“Whitney’s a swe
