The twins followed. Neither of them were keen on the idea, but they didn’t want to leave Willis or Tucker alone. Dallas could take care of himself and Clint.
“If you could each sit on a cot, we can begin,” one of the nurses asked as they entered, what looked like a small ER.
Tucker made Willis sit on the first bed and he sat across from him. The twins took the next two. Willis gripped the sheets, as a nurse started touching him.
“Do you have any preexisting conditions?” she asked.
Willis was fine to ignore her, but Tucker leaned around his own nurse to answer for him, “he’s type 2 diabetic. He had to take a rescue shot earlier.”
The nurse smiled at Tucker, “thank you,” she left to the cabinets lining the wall, and returned with sheets of packets and a small device in hand. She gent
