“Yes.”
“Then I still want to take you.”
“I can’t promise - ”
“It’s dinner, Gemma. We can decide what a second one means after we survive the first.”
Relief made her smile.
The People Who Love You, Gemma discovered her placement had been suspended while standing at the teaching ward entrance with a packed lunch and a freshly charged tablet.
The reader flashed amber.
She tried again.
The receptionist checked her screen.
“There’s a temporary restriction on external and clinical activity pending welfare review.”
“Whose review?”
The woman hesitated.
Gemma already knew.
By the time she reached the courtyard, her anger had become frighteningly calm.
Elijah answered on the second ring.
“Gem - ”
“Did you contact my placement coordinator?”
He said nothing.
“I’m at the hospital.”
“There are unresolved risks.”
“Then tell me about them.”
“I asked for a pause until we know more.”
Gemma looked through the glass doors at people going about the work she had come to learn.
“You asked them to remove me.”
“Temporarily.”
The word made it worse.
She ended the call before saying something she could not retrieve.
•••
Brenda found her on a bench behind the medical building.
“Mercer’s looking for you.”
“I’m apparently a welfare incident.”
Brenda sat.
Gemma showed her the notification.
“Ah,” Brenda said. “Your brother has discovered administration. Dangerous development.”
Gemma wanted to laugh. Instead, her eyes filled.
Brenda’s expression changed immediately.
“Do you want me to talk or shut up?”
“Talk. Just not about him.”
So Brenda told her about an assessment in which she had lost marks for replacing an expensive grounding crystal with a common copper fitting.
“Did it work?” Gemma asked.
“Better. But apparently the fitting lacked pedigree.”
“What did you say?”
“Something that may affect my reference.”
Gemma laughed then, a little painfully.
Brenda leaned back.
“I’m appealing. Proper evidence, cost comparison, performance figures. My aunt says outrage is free, but paperwork gets things fixed.”
Gemma looked at her.
“You’re telling me to appeal.”
“I’m telling you I’m going to. You may steal the concept.”
They found Mercer together.
The physician looked furious in the contained way Gemma was learning to recognize.
“Your brother raised a security concern,” she said. “The coordinator applied a broad temporary hold without consulting me. I’ve requested its review.”
“Can he do that?”
“Raise a concern? Yes. Decide whether you’re medically fit or academically eligible? No.”
Gemma breathed out.
“I want to attend the review.”
“You should.”
“And I want the reason written down.”
Mercer nodded once, approvingly.
The review took place that afternoon. Nicollette attended the portion about placement standards as the elected cohort representative; she was excluded from the private discussion of Gemma’s health.
Gemma had not expected to see her.
Nicollette put a slim folder on the table.
“I requested clarification about unscheduled field participation,” she said. “Students have asked whether opportunities are being allocated consistently.”
Gemma heard the connection being offered: unusual access, an influential family, a professor from the ruling house. Nothing illegal needed to happen for the story to damage her.
She opened the notes she and Brenda had prepared.
“Then the clarification should say I was authorized to observe and assisted when instructed during an emergency. It wasn't an independently arranged placement.”
The coordinator checked the incident record.
“That is accurate.”
“And Dr. Mercer assessed me before I returned. If the hold concerns a new security risk, I need the actual risk explained. If it concerns preferential treatment, please identify the rule I bypassed.”
Nicollette looked at her for a long moment.
“I’m not accusing you of misconduct.”
“Then I want the minutes to make that clear.”
Brenda, attending as Gemma’s support person, stopped tapping her pencil.
The coordinator typed.
Nicollette agreed to the wording. Gemma could not tell whether that concession had cost her anything.
Afterward, they stood outside beneath the corridor’s digital noticeboard. A council-funded fellowship rotated across its screen. Nicollette’s name appeared among the shortlisted applicants.
“You understand what it looks like,” Nicollette said quietly.
Gemma held her folder against her chest.
“I’m beginning to understand how carefully you explain it to people.”
The other woman's expression hardened.
“Some of us have spent two years earning trust here.”
“Then don't ask me to earn mine by accepting things that aren't true.”
Nicollette glanced at Brenda, then back.
“You have someone very quick to speak for you.”
“You heard me speak for myself.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Nicollette walked away.
Brenda waited until she had turned the corner.
“I didn't even get to be unreasonable.”
Gemma let out a shaky breath.
“You were saving it?”
“For the appeal. Always keep something in reserve.”
•••
That evening, both brothers arrived at the residence hall.
Brenda opened the common-room door and surveyed them.
“Is this a social visit, or should I find the complaints procedure?”
Elias held up a grocery bag. “Peace offering.”
“Put it on the counter. Peace is not guaranteed.”
Gemma stood beside the window.
Elijah looked tired. She refused to let that end the conversation before it began.
“You should have spoken to me.”
“I saw you nearly collapse.”
“And you’ve heard the doctor say I recovered.”
“That doesn’t explain what attacked that man.”
“No. It doesn’t.” Gemma folded her arms to stop her hands shaking. “And removing me from supervised work doesn’t explain it either.”
Elias put the groceries down.
“We thought - ”
“Did you help?” she asked him.
He looked at the counter.
“I sent Elijah the updated timetable.”
Gemma stared.
“You said you needed it to bring my books.”
“I did bring the books.”
“Elias.”
His face changed. He looked young then, and ashamed in a way that hurt her more than defensiveness would have.
“I’m sorry.”
The common room seemed too small for all of them.
Elijah glanced at Brenda. “Could we have a minute?”
Brenda looked at Gemma.
Gemma shook her head.
“She can stay.”
Her brother accepted that with visible effort.
“You think I’m trying to stop you becoming a doctor.”
“I think you’re scared enough to stop listening.”
He looked away.
For several seconds, Gemma heard only the fan. Brenda had replaced its loose screw; it no longer rattled.
“When I got back to that clearing,” Elijah said, “you were white around the mouth. Your eyes weren’t focusing. I couldn’t feel how much strength you had left.”
“Neither could I. That’s why I’m training.”
His shoulders dropped a fraction.
She moved closer.
“You can be scared for me. You cannot make my decisions because you’re scared.”
Elijah pressed his lips together.
“What do you want me to do?”
The question was clumsy. It was also the first useful thing he had said.
“Tell the coordinator you support restoring my placement. Give any actual threat information to campus security and Mercer. Ask before sharing my timetable. Knock and wait.”
Elias winced at the last one.
Brenda inspected the grocery bag with diplomatic concentration.
“And if there is an emergency?” Elijah asked.
“Call me. If I can’t answer, use the emergency contact process we already have.”
He nodded slowly.
“I can do that.”
Gemma wanted to believe him. For tonight, she decided wanting could be enough.
•••
After they left, Brenda took a carton of strawberries from the bag.
“Strong opening bid,” she said.
Gemma sat on the sofa. Her anger had left her exhausted.
“I hate fighting with them.”
“You didn’t stop loving them halfway through. They’ll survive.”
Gemma watched Brenda wash the fruit.
“I need to tell my parents about the charm opening.”
Brenda turned off the tap.
“Do you want company?”
“When I do it. Yes.”
“Okay.”
Her phone buzzed on the table.
The records office had answered the request Gemma submitted from the kitchen.
She opened it, expecting a form to sign.
The foundling report was available. The associated maternity transfer attachment was not held by that office. It had been reassigned to restricted council custody under a directive issued in August 2008.
Gemma read the phrase twice.
“Maternity transfer,” she said.
Brenda came to look.
“You were found outside a clinic.”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t the same thing as being transferred out of one.”
Gemma reached for her notebook.
For the first time, she wrote down the possibility she had been avoiding.
Someone knew where I came from.