“You’re a very lucky girl,” Dr. Chambers continues.

I doubt that, I think, but don’t say.

“But as The Society does not force anyone to submit to anything they don’t want to, I want to be certain you’ve asked your brother, as a good and upstanding member, to bring you here so that your purity will be certified, and you will be declared fit for marriage to a man of such stature.”

“Are you serious?”

“Ivy,” Abel says. He’d have more to say, but the doctor holds up his hand.

“This is difficult for our younger ladies. I have a daughter your sister’s age, Abel. I understand, believe me.” He turns his attention to me. “But we should get on with it and not waste anyone’s time. Will you submit to my examination, Ivy?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

Abel fingers dig into my shoulders. “Sister.” There’s a long, weighted pause. “If you prefer, I can take you home now. We have alternatives,” he threatens.

“No,” I say, standing up. “I submit. Let’s get it over with.”

“Very good. There is to be one witness, and Mr. Holton has generously given up his morning to be here in that capacity.”

“How selfless of him.”

The doctor stands. “You can undress behind the privacy curtain, then make yourself comfortable on the examining table. Everything off.”

My legs wobble as I walk toward the privacy screen, and I knock into the coffee table, spilling coffee out of the cup there.

“Please excuse my sister. She’s quite nervous,” Abel says. I get the feeling he’s kept my disorder a secret.

“It’s natural,” the doctor says.

Once I’m behind the privacy screen, I slump against the wall and exhale a deep breath. I feel dizzy, and my skin is clammy. I close my eyes and force myself to breathe, counting to five on an inhale, holding, exhaling to five. Repeating.

I imagine myself at the swimming pool on campus swimming my laps. I do it every morning. It’s one of the things that helps, that keeps me level and steady. It’ll be over quickly, then I can get out of here. Then I can see Dad and maybe go for a swim in the afternoon before Eva gets home.

I undress and put on the robe, grateful there is one. Beyond the curtain, I hear the men speak in low murmurs while stirring sugar and cream into their coffee. I hear Santiago’s name and strain to listen, but they seem to quiet even more when mentioning him. From their tone, I get the feeling they don’t like him.

I know I’m taking too long when one of the men clears his throat, and my brother calls my name.

“Are you ready, Ivy? I’m sure these gentlemen have better things to do than wait on you.”

Those gentlemen can go to hell.