demigod
“Analysis complete. Results show elevated hCG levels.”
“No, no, no,” Lena mumbled, icy fear sliding down her spine and coiling in her stomach as a jolt of panic ran through her. “That can’t be correct. It must be a contaminated sample.”
Scrambling for a sealed test tube waiting on a rack, Lena opened a metal drawer and rummaged through the neatly arranged medical supplies to pull out another packaged needle. Making a tourniquet around her left arm, Lena sat down on a stool and eyed the pale skin at the crook of her elbow, threaded through with bluish-green veins, and tore the needle open with her teeth.
“Miss Luthor, the sample is not contaminated. Results show increased blood volume, and physical symptoms of your illness coincide with early gestational symptoms of pregnancy. By my calculations, you should be six-”
“I’m not pregnant,” Lena snapped, her voice breaking as she shot to her feet, needle clutched in her hand and tourniquet slowing the blood supply to her left arm. “It’s- it’s indicative of a uterine infection, or a- a tumour. Ovarian cancer. But I am not pregnant. It would have to be an immaculate conception.”