Doctor
Doctor Elizabeth Olivet, M.D., police psychologist and private practitioner dealing mainly with young children, sat quietly in the waiting room of her gynaecologist, a small camera disguised as a brooch pinned to her sensible cardigan. Crossing her knees nervously, she looked around the room: at the television perpetually playing the news, the outdated magazines from six months ago, the receptionist filing her nails as the phone rang. What struck Liz the most was the people – the women who saw her doctor or one of the other five who shared this office space. Not a single man was present – only the doctors were male. In the room where women come and go, she learned, some left with a heavy secret – rape.
The door next to the receptionist's window opened.
"Elizabeth Olivet?" the nurse called out.
Liz gathered up her things and smoothed down her skirt.
Here goes everything.
She left the room, becoming one of the women who go.
