Meadow, unable to stem the flow of her tears and embarrassed to be so vulnerable in front of Eddie (still very much a stranger to her), lifted the wide sleeves of her oversized cardigan and covered her entire face as she cried quietly in the truck. She even turned her body, sore as it was, toward the window and away from Eddie to achieve some sense of distance in the small cabin of his 2010 Ford Ranger. She was grateful to be gone from her parent's place, but she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to welcome Eddie into her life with open arms just yet or at all.

Eddie listened to her soft mournful sounds without saying a word. He was distressed for her, but wise enough to know she wouldn't accept any sympathy from him. Instead of offering her comforting words, he leaned over the gear shift after a while and got a wad of napkins out of the glove compartment for her. He placed them gently on her lap. Then, he reached behind her seat for a water bottle, which he laid up against her thigh, never breathing a word to her. He just kept his eyes on the road.

After a few minutes, he noticed she picked up some of the softer napkins to dry her face. And, as he pulled out of town and took the highway north east, he watched her take a few sips of water from the bottle. He was relieved for her, but he still kept his thoughts to himself. It was obvious that she wasn't interested in having any conversation with him at all.

Meadow felt worn and numb, but not so much so that she didn't realize they had driven past the clinic and were now driving northward out of Arrowfield.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, only mildly curious. Perhaps she should have been alarmed. But the truth was, she just didn't have the energy to care.

"To Kenakitch," Eddie replied without hesitation. "There's a clinic there." He threw her a quick look but she was still concentrating on the view outside the window.

"What's wrong with the one in Arrowfield?" Meadow asked, just before taking another swig of her water. She felt parched.

"Nothing at all. Just thought you'd prefer the privacy," Eddie offered thoughtfully.

Meadow turned her head ever so slightly and frowned at him. "Privacy? Why can't I get that in Arrowfield?" She was feeling ill and not sure another fifteen minutes in the truck was the solution. It made more sense to just go to the clinic at home.

"Anonymity, is what I meant," Eddie offered sagely.

Meadow conceded. He was right. She would prefer to go somewhere where no one coming in or out of the clinic knew her face, her name or her family. Instead of replying, she just turned her face back to the window and continued to ignore her quiet and considerate driver.

Kenakitch was a mountain town of about 1,500 people, and was situated less than fifteen minutes north-east of Arrowfield. It was predominately a Lycanthrope community. Meadow knew of the town, had driven through the town, but she did not know the town or its people. The chances of her family being known around there were pretty slim. Consequently, she sat up and paid closer attention as they drove along its quaint picturesque streets.

The clinic, a medium sized facility with mid-century modern architecture, was located at the edge of town, near an old established subdivision. Meadow observed lots of young families walking up and down the streets, kids playing in the yards, people walking their dogs, and some folks out mowing their lawns. It seemed like a lot of activity during the supper hour.

But, the most eye catching characteristic of this relatively ordinary town were all the lycanthropes.  Every face was a picture of beauty. Every body, old and young alike, a representation of health, strength and athleticism. Meadow imagined this was what a Gap commercial set would look like if they were filming on the streets of small town America. Every man, woman and child was model worthy.

When Eddie pulled into the empty parking lot of the clinic, Meadow didn't hesitate to unbuckle herself and place her hand on the door. She felt completely at ease in this lycanthrope town. It came from years of working with lycanthropes. She didn't find them intimidating unless they took on their true lycanthrope form and were thrashing around in the Bureau. That was always terrifying. But this town, it was almost inviting.

However, Eddie quickly interrupted her effort to open the door by blurting out,"Don't get out just yet. Let me come around to your side first. I don't want you falling out of the truck if you take a dizzy spell," he explained with beseeching eyes.

Meadow nodded in understanding and sat back. As he stepped out she wiped her face clean on a couple of napkins, drank the rest of her water, and slid the long strap of her travel purse over her head. The less she had to hold on to, the less she had to worry about when she got down from the truck. He was right there, when she was ready.

Opening the door he asked quite anxiously, "You feeling alright?"

Not interested in being mothered by him, she just replied in a tired voice, "Lets just get this over with so I can get back to the Inn and make arrangements to go back to Rutherford."

Smart enough not to press things, Eddie satisfied himself with nodding in agreement and watching carefully as she stepped out of the truck. She appeared stiff but otherwise okay. Still, not wanting to take a chance, he took her left arm after he closed the door and assisted her to the clinic door. She didn't protest. He counted himself lucky.

Inside, the place was almost as empty as the parking lot. There was only one other person there  - a very attractive thirty-something woman, who was sitting behind the administrative counter. Her head of short cropped somewhat curly auburn hair popped up and she gave them a quizzical look as she stood to her feet and came out into the waiting room.

"Now," she sort of drawled, "What do we have here?" The woman smiled openly as she approached them, and sized them up with her exceedingly curious eyes.

When Meadow looked up into the woman's Grecian face, she saw that the stranger recognized her. But Meadow did not remember her in return - even with those mesmerizing cobalt eyes. 

"Well, I'll be" the beauty exclaimed excitedly. "You're the little woman from the Bureau - Ms Rask, right? The miracle worker." She grinned with genuine pleasure as she gazed down at Meadow. "Goodness gracious, what brings you all the way here? You are a long way from Rutherford."

"Do you know each other?" Eddie asked Meadow with unveiled concern. He'd meant to bring her someplace where she wasn't likely to know a living soul. What were the chances she knew the doctor here in Kenakitch?

But Meadow shook her head no.

The doctor, not deterred, proclaimed boldly, but in a friendly and almost teasing tone, "We do. Well, at least I know you," she confessed with a laugh. "I was into the Bureau and you were a great help to me about five years ago. I guess I shouldn't expect you to remember everyone who comes and goes from the Bureau," she offered apologetically.

Dropping the subject when Meadow continued to look at her blankly, she asked instead, "How can I help you?"

Without waiting for an answer, she directed them down a hall to the furthest room from the waiting room. Every room they passed was empty. There really wasn't a soul in the place but them.

"I'm worried she has a concussion, Hedda," Eddie piped in when Meadow said nothing. He worried she was feeling too ill to talk.

"Hedda?" Meadow asked.

Eddie didn't say anything about knowing the doctor at the clinic. She wondered if that was a good thing or a bad? Did this Hedda know who Meadow was to him? Did she know the family had kept him a secret from her for nearly four years? Meadow brushed away a couple of tears. Just the thought of their corporate effort to lie to her made her feel retched.

Hedda ushered her into a small patient room, which had a window, an examination table, two chairs, a stool with wheels, and a floor to ceiling cabinet unit with a mirror and sink. It looked like any room you'd find in half decent clinics anywhere in North America. Meadow sank into the seat by the examination table and turned her attention back to Hedda, who sat down on the stool and offered Eddie the other chair. Eddie remained standing in the doorway though. Meadow was glad he was perceptive, and realized she didn't really want to have anything much to do with him at the moment.

"I'm Doctor Hedda Wallin," the older woman explained straight away. "Eddie and I go way back. We practically grew up together. He's like the brother I never had," she tagged on with affection.

Eddie went white at the phrase, 'like the brother I never had'. What would Meadow think? What would she say? How could those words not upset her right now, after today's revelation? He clenched his teeth and just waited for her to either have a total meltdown in tears or for her to blow up in a rage. Either he would accept and take full responsibility for.

However, distracted by the woman's full name, Meadow did neither. Instead, she softly repeated, "Dr. Hedda Wallin," to herself as she closed her eyes to a whirl of documents in her mind. It took a couple of minutes but her eye finally settled on a registration form with Hedda's rather unique name typed across it. Reading off the paperwork from her memory, Meadow relayed, "You practice traditional lycanthrope healing methods, is that right?"

"You do remember me!" Hedda exclaimed with warmth and amazement.

Meadow didn't respond. She kept her eyes gently closed and tried to recall what else was written there. "You have a medical degree from Cornell, were already registered as a Family Practitioner, but wanted to register for non-traditional medicine." Meadow now opened her eyes and looked at the doctor with a ghost of a smile.

"That's it! That's me," she replied with astonishment.

Hedda hadn't expected the Bureau's miracle worker to remember anything about Hedda's file. She was just hoping the human would remember her face. This amount of detail was exceptional. If the woman was suffering from a concussion, it had to be mild. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to recall so clearly the particulars from a five year old case. 

"It's all thanks to you that I have this practice here in Kenakitch," Hedda went on to say in a subdued and sincere tone. "Can't thank you enough for helping me out that day."

"I'm so pleased we were able to get things straightened out and get all the paperwork in order," Meadow responded in Bureau mode. It just came so natural to her. She didn't even realize she'd switched from potential head trauma victim to Bureau representative. "I hope your practice has been doing well," she offered politely. 

Hedda, picking up on the swift change from casual to professional speech, laughed with amusement. "You are a strange one," she said as she shook her head of loose curls and slapped her knee. Then, just as quickly, she changed gears too and asked, "So, you think you have a concussion?"

"Possibly. Can you check for signs here at the clinic? Is there some kind of definitive test?" Meadow asked.

"I can check for signs," Hedda said slowly as she examined Meadow's face more carefully this time. "Now, do you want this guy here sitting in on this exam or should I give him the boot?" she asked seriously despite her playful words.

Eddie had not entered the room, as yet. He hoped meadow would continue to sort of tolerate him and ignore him. But, now that Hedda had put the question to her, he was sure she would tell him to get lost.

"I don't care what he does," Meadow said dully. She was feeling tired again and couldn't expend any more energy in being a polite bureaucrat or an offended half sister.

Eddie let out a sigh of relief, which Hedda caught right away. She gave him a curious look but said nothing. Turning her attention back to her patient she asked, "What makes you think you might have one?"

"I don't know if I do or not. We're just here as a precaution," she explained without explaining.

Hedda frowned as she wheeled her stool closer to Meadow's chair. "Did you hit your head?"

"Yes."

"On what?"

"A glass patio door and then the deck."

"How long ago?"

"An hour ago, maybe more," Meadow replied with a heavy sigh. Thinking and talking were becoming a chore. She just wanted to sleep.

"Does your head hurt?"

"Yes."

"Do you have blurred vision? Trouble thinking straight or putting words together?"

"I'm just tired. I just want to sleep," Meadow confessed.

"Sure," Hedda replied. "I'll let you take a nap right here in the clinic if you stay awake long enough to complete a couple little tests for me. How does that sound?" she asked.

Meadow nodded her compliance.

Fifteen minutes later, after Hedda tested her eyesight, hearing, reflexes, balance, memory and attention span, she allowed Meadow to crawl onto the cushioned exam table and lay down. Meadow laid on her side, facing the doctor, the door and Eddie, who hadn't moved. Hedda went and fetched a comfort blanket, something she used for anxious or agitated patients from time to time, while Meadow got comfortable.

"It's a calming blanket," she explained to Meadow as she laid the heavy cloth over her. "It'll warm you up in no time and you'll drift right off to sleep."

Meadow didn't smile or say anything. She just closed her eyes grateful to be lying down.

"It is a mild concussion," Hedda explained as she walked over to the window and closed the blinds. "You will have to watch it. Rest lots this week. And come straight back in or to the nearest hospital if you have vision, hearing, balance or cognitive issues. But, in the meantime Meadow, you just rest here. Don't worry about a thing."

Hedda came around the end of the exam table and found Meadow already fast asleep. She smiled as she crossed the little room, flicked off the lights, and pushed Eddie out into the hall so she could close the door over a bit.

When they were half way down the hallway, Hedda asked Eddie point blank, "Who is she to you?"

Eddie could only sigh and say, "I don't think I can answer that right now." 

Hedda looked him over and wondered what the secret was. There was definitely some strange atmosphere between them. But, she didn't press him for more. Instead, she asked, "Should we call anyone? Family, maybe?"

Eddie cringed inwardly as he said, "Right now, I'm all she's got around here."

Hedda looked thoughtfully at her childhood friend, whom she rarely saw since she spent most of her time with her head in a book or writing scientific articles when not dealing with patients. "Haven't you been at your father's place on the other side of Arrowfield?" she inquired with a puzzled look. "Is that where you found her? Why bring her all the way here?" she asked though not meaning to be nosy.

Instead of answering her, he asked his own question. "Is she going to be okay?"

"Has she anywhere to go tonight?" Hedda asked totally ignoring his question.

"Yes and no," he replied.

She rolled her eyes. It was hard getting a straight answer or a candid explanation from either of them. "Well, if she doesn't care where she sleeps, I say let her sleep here the night. And, in the morning, I can check her again. If she seems fit, I'll send her on with you."

Eddie gave a grateful nod. "That works for me. What about you? Will you stay here all night?" He didn't want to put her out. She was his oldest friend, but he didn't want to take advantage of her. He could always take Meadow back to the Inn in Arrowfield if he had to.

"I've got a cot in the office and you can just take one of the exam tables in any of the rooms. They are made for lycanthropes. So, they are plenty long enough and not too hard," she told him with a cheeky grin. "You wont want to make a habit of spending the night, but it wont kill you to sleep on one of them either," she laughed.

"Don't I need to watch her?" Eddie put out there apprehensively.

Hedda chuckled. "This isn't a movie Eddie. She doesn't need to be woken up every twenty minutes. She just needs quiet and rest. Those are the best remedies for a mild concussion."

He smiled just a little with relief, but he doubted he'd get a wink of sleep that night.