Tessa stood outside the hospital, looking pale. Her nails dug into the reports, eyes clouded over with tears. Doctor Moore's voice echoed in her ears as she handed her the envelope.
"It's positive, Miss Tessa. I'm so sorry."
The words didn't feel real. They spun in her mind like a cruel echo she couldn't shut off. She pressed the back of her fist to her lips, holding in the sob that clawed at her throat.
Her legs moved before her mind caught up. Down the hospital steps. Across the parking lot. Into her car. She shut the door and just sat there, clutching the paper like it could rewrite itself if she held it tightly enough.
She had HIV.
The words didn't match her. Not in her mind. Not in her story. She wasn't reckless. She wasn't the type. That's what people thought, right? That it only happened to those kinds of people. The promiscuous ones.
But now… people would think she was one of them.
