Samara Gennadi's eyes fluttered open to the soft hum of air conditioning, the sterile smell of antiseptic, and the muted lighting of a room she knew all too well. For a brief moment, she was disoriented, a familiar knot of unease tightening in her chest. But as soon as her vison cleared, the familiar setting of the private waiting room in DanilG medical center, the upscale hospital was founded by the Gennadi family first generation and is currently ran my father's sister and her husband, came into focus. She immediately knew where she was-and what had happened.
She had been here before. Thrice in fact. The same age, in the same outfit, at the same time-and for the same purpose.
Samara was seven years old again, lying on the plush, tan leather couch of the exclusive private waiting room. Her small hands clutched the white hospital blanket draped over her. The soft tan walls, the mahogany furniture, and the large abstract paintings-meant to inspire calm and serenity-felt like a strange mixture of comfort and dread.
She took a deep breath, urging her racing thoughts to calm down. The last thing she remembered from third life was a bitter sense of regret, anger and hatred, all jumbled up in her, sitting alone in an isolated room of a rehab mental facility. Yet within that sorrow, a strange calm settled deep within her chest. The weight of her past mistakes and wrong choices, once a crushing burden, felt lighter, almost completely bearable. There was no denying the sting of what had happened, but alongside it, a greater quiet acceptance bloomed, an acceptance along with a strong and almost unshakeable resolve on what to do. Then darkness.
And now she was back here, in her seven-year-old body, in the same hospital room she had visited twice in her previous rebirths.
Samara's heart skipped a beat as she heard the soft click of the door opening. The assistant, Mr. Jamil, her parents' efficient but distant right-hand man, stepped inside. His perfectly pressed navy-blue suit and stern expression were just as samara remembered.
''Miss Samara,'' Mr. Jamil said his voice carefully modulated, ''the doctor will be with you shortly. Your parents are with your sister, Alara. She had a slight fever, so they wanted to make sure she was alright.''
Of course they're with Alara, samara thought, with indifference. She was disappointed, but the sting of disappointment she'd felt in her first three lives was not present. As expected even in this fourth life, her parents were more concerned with her younger sister's slight fever than with the fact that samara had just had a severe allergic reaction.
The first time she had experienced this, samara had been confused and scared, her small body trembling as she waited for her parents to come. But they never did. Not then, not in her second or third life and apparently, not in this one either.
Samara looked at the untouched glass of water on the small table beside her and tried to focus. She knew what was coming. The doctor would arrive soon with the results of the allergy test. It would reveal that she was allergic to tomatoes-a common ingredient that showed up in sauces, salads and various dishes. It was an allergy that wasn't constantly life-threatening whenever she consumed them, but they would always cause severe discomfort and hives if she wasn't careful. It had been such a simple thing to manage once one knew about it, but in her first three lives, her parents never paid attention to the diagnosis, and it had been up to Mr. Jamil to ask the house chef to be careful of the ingredient when serving her meals at home. While for meals other than home-cooked meals, it was up to her to avoid the ingredient herself.
She remembered the first life how she was frustrated as she had to pick them out her meals in family events and gatherings which brought about strange looks in public. In the second life she decided to eat it in front of every one resulting in a severe allergic reaction, she was accused by her parents of exposing her flaws in public and was reprimanded, finally in her rebellious third life she made a drama out of it, pointing out the parents' negligence. She was tagged unruly, unreserved and lacked filial piety.
Samara's thoughts were interrupted by the soft knock on the door. Dr Thorne, the head allergist in the hospital entered the room. A tall, elegant woman in her mid-forties with sharp features softened by a warm smile, she looked like the very image of competence and care. She had always given the same kind but professional in her three lives, serena had ignored this in previously, as she was more focused on the fact that her aunt had been dragged along to attend to Alara along with her parents.
How stupid of me, to have placed a general practitioner over a specialized allergist that is also well known in the department, someone that others would have given a lot just to secure an appointment.
''Samara, how are you feeling?'' Dr. Thorne asked, her tone gentle as she sat down beside samara.
''I'm fine, Dr. Thorne,'' Samara replied, smiling as bright as she could with an apologetic eye, trying to convey a message of thank you for looking after me and sorry for undermining you all this time.
Dr. Thorne smiled, a hint of relief in her eyes, seeing this once gloomy child smile so genuinely. ''Good. We've run some tests, and it seems that you are allergic to a protein profilin, most commonly found in solanaceae…nightshade foods. Luckily your body reacts to it only when it comes specifically from tomatoes. It's quite serious if consumed in certain quantities, but the quantity is quite irregular, so I'll advice you steer clear of consuming it. you'll need to be careful, but we'll ales prepare some EpiPens in case of mistaken consumption. you'll also please make sure her parents are informed, '' she said to Mr. Jamil. ''It'll be added to your medical records.''
Samara nodded, yet she knew better than to believe that this information would be taken seriously by her parents. It never had been before.
'Thank you,'' she said quietly.
Mr. Jamil stepped forward, his phone in hand. I'll let Mr. and Mrs. Gennadi know right away,'' he said his tone brisk. '' as soon as possible.''
Samara simply nodded again, a strange calm settling over her. She knew what to expect now. But she also knew that things didn't have to play out the same way. She could direct the flow.
As she sat there, waiting for Mr. Jamil to take her home, Samara vowed this time, she would be different. She would be stronger, smarter, and more strategic. She wouldn't let her family, the high-class society or anyone Pressurize her into oblivion. She'll live till she's old and wrinkled, she'd thrive and this time around be her own person and make choices influenced by her own decision.