Chapter 6: The Test
Lilia sat in the backseat of the sleek black car, a symbol of luxury that only deepened the ache in her chest. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her knuckles white from the effort. The city blurred past the tinted windows, the outside world reduced to a hazy smear. Each passing moment felt like a step closer to something she couldn't escape.
Beside her, her mother sat silent and unreadable—a fortress of ice, her expression as impenetrable as stone. Lilia didn't dare look at her. The air inside the car was stifling, thick with unspoken accusations and the haunting echo of Sabrina's cruel parting words: What if Lilia isn't a virgin?
Her chest tightened, the humiliation burning her like a brand. Yet beneath the shame, a flicker of defiance stirred. Why do they get to decide what I'm worth? The question looped in her mind, unanswered and relentless, fueling the storm that raged within her.
Her mother's sharp voice shattered the tense silence. "When we arrive, you will not embarrass me. You better pray that the results show you are clean. Otherwise, you may as well stay at the hospital—or look for a house to rent nearby."
Lilia stiffened, swallowing the retort that clawed at her throat. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands, her nails digging into her palms in a desperate attempt to keep her emotions in check. A blush of anger and humiliation crept up her neck, her mother's cutting words echoing like a taunt in her ears.
Why does she think so little of me? The thought churned in her mind, bitter and unyielding. Was this test simply because her mother had caught her outside last night? Did they truly believe she'd been sneaking off to meet someone? The baseless accusations coiled in her stomach, forming a knot that refused to loosen.
The car slowed, then came to a halt, pulling Lilia from her spiraling thoughts. The hospital loomed ahead, its cold, steely facade reflecting the emotional war raging within her. The building seemed to mock her, its impersonal exterior as unfeeling as the ordeal she was about to endure.
Her mother opened the door with a practiced grace, stepping out without so much as a glance back. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement, each step echoing with purpose. Lilia hesitated, her heart sinking. Then, with reluctant steps, she followed.
Inside the hospital, the sterile air struck her like a slap. The faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, and the harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in an unflattering glare. The hallway stretched before them, long and uninviting, its stark whiteness making her feel exposed. Her mother led the way, her heels striking the floor with a precision that seemed almost calculated.