disheveled, her blonde hair tangled up in knots, her face pale and her mascara smudged beneath her eyes.
Pure instinct and compassion took over. Ignoring her own feelings and the persistent nausea, she stepped forward, keeping her tone low and soothing as she addressed the patient. âHelen, my name is Raine, and Iâm a nurse. Can you tell me what happened?â
The girlâs eyes filled with tears. âI donât know what happened. I canât remember. I canât remember! â
âShh, itâs okay.â Raine crossed over to put a supporting arm around the girlâs shoulders. She knew, only too well, exactly how Helen felt. The void where your memory should have been threatened to swallow you whole. Her own horrific experience had happened a month ago, but she was suddenly reliving every detail.
She pushed the fears away, trying to keep focused on Helen. The girl was her patient. The poor young woman had come here for help. âDo you have bruises? Do you hurt anywhere?â
Helen nodded, tears making long black streaks on her cheeks. âWhen I woke upâ¦my clothes were off. Andâ¦was hurt. I thinkâI might have been raped.â
CHAPTER SIX
T HE room spun dizzily and Raineâs knees buckled. She grabbed the edge of the bed, holding herself upright out of sheer stubbornness. But her mind whirled, drawing parallels matching the horrific experience sheâd endured with this poor girlâs situation.
She swallowed hard and tried to gather her scattered thoughts. She needed to get a grip. This wasnât about her. She needed to focus on the patient. Helen.
âYvonne, please find Dr. Stewart, will you?â Raine wasnât sure how she managed to sound so calm. âI need him to approve some orders.â
âOf course.â Yvonne ducked from the room.
Helen tightened her grip on the blanket, her eyes wide and frightened in her face. âIs Dr. Stewart a man? Because I donât want him to examine me unless heâs a woman.â
The disjointed protest didnât make much sense, but Raine understood exactly what Helen was trying to tell her.
âDr. Stewart is a man, but he wonât examine you,â she explained gently. âWe have nurses, female nurses, who have special training as sexual assault experts to do that. Dr. Stewart does need to write the orders, though.Weâll need to draw some blood so we can run lab tests, to see if you have any drugs in your system.â
âDrugs? I donât do drugs. Ohâ¦â Helenâs face paled and her eyes filled with fresh tears. âYou mean he gave me something? Is that why I canât remember?â
Rohypnol was the drug theyâd found in her bloodstream. But there were various date-rape drugs on the streets. Sheâd spent hours searching through the information on the internet. Even alcohol could be used to encourage a woman to do something she normally wouldnât do.
There were plenty of men who would take advantage of the opportunity.
Her skin felt cold and clammy, and she tightened her grip on the edge of Helenâs bed in an effort to keep her mind grounded in reality. Thankfully the patient was too traumatized to realize there was something wrong with her nurse. Raine tried to speak calmly through the dull roaring in her ears. âWe wonât know until we get the test results back. When did this happen?â
âLast night, late. We closed the bar. But I didnât wake up until a couple hours ago. I slept all day. I never sleep all day.â
Most likely because of the drugs. Especially if they were mixed with something else. âAnd were you drinking alcohol, too?â
âYes.â Helen dropped her chin to her chest, as if she couldnât bear to make eye contact. âCosmo martinis.â
The potent beverage may have been enough, but Raine didnât think so. Helenâs total lack of memory sounded more like a