Hershey knew that this annual checkup at the hospital would be used as some sort of bargaining chip for the arranged marriage.
She stared at the gray bricks and allowed herself to be lost in thought, letting Rosina guide her through the sparse city streets. 'If only I could figure out what my parents want from these potential suitors.' Hershey knew they arrived when the cement made way to linoleum, and the smell of spiced pastries and coffee faded into bleach and sanitizer.
Ten steps to the check-in counter, and twenty strides to the right. Go up one flight of stairs, into the left foyer, and talk with the receptionist.
Her usual spot was the couch that sat in front of an awful abstract painting. But someone else was sitting there today. Her eyes widened at the familiar face that greeted her.
"Hershey?"
His voice was deeper than she recalled. She could almost feel it rattle her chest.
