Dimity scrutinizes the evidence, and then turns her attention to Hecate whose head is ready to detach itself from her body. Dimity takes a pace backwards certain that steam will roll out of Hecate's ears at any moment. The nurse approaches them, despite Dimity's best head shake.
"Your results are confidential. Do you want them reported, or not?"
"No," Dimity answers quickly.
"This is unacceptable!" Hecate fumes.
"If you are not happy with the results you can repeat the test. There is an unopened box in the cabinet. Help yourself. I'll leave the two of you alone. I have inventory to do. If you need anything I will be in the supply closet."
The nurse disappears around the corner. Dimity locks eyes with Hecate.
"We should double check the results."
"Agreed."
Ten minutes later Dimity, and Hecate are sitting on the floor in the nurse's office. A pile of pregnancy tests encircles them. Every single test glares at them defiantly offering the same results.
"We are going to have accept the accuracy of these," Dimity suggests.
"I will do no such thing! I absolutely refuse to accept this level of discord."
"Hecate, we have no choice. These tiny plastic stick have elucidated the truth of the matter."
"You are ready to accept this plastic stick as gospel?!"
"No. I am still in a state of shock. That is why the nurse has scheduled an additional appointment to confirm, or refute the results."
Hecate waves her hand, and vanishes the tests. Dimity shakes her head in disbelief.
"Hecate disappearing the results will not disappear the predicament we find ourselves in."
"A predicament?! This violation is far more egregious than a predicament. I intend to find out whom is responsible for this."
"Even if we do it does not resolve the facts at hand. The fact of the matter is that..."
"Don't!" Hecate snarls.
Selection day comes, and goes. The council's official investigation trudges on with a total of 12 identified witches from 10 different academies falling prey to such a scandalous predator. Late one evening Hecate tosses, and turns wrestling with her own cynical cyclical rounds of intrusive thoughts. A slumber has yet to come when a light billows underneath her door from the hallway.
"You may enter," she calls without knuckles upon her door.
The door opens, and Dimity enters the room, gently securing the door behind her. Hecate flips on the lamp, and finds her colleague approaching.
"I know that it is late, and I have likely interrupted your slumber."
"Unfortunately you have not," Hecate admits.
"How's your rabbit hole?"
Hecate shrugs, "Seemingly bottomless."
"What have you told Ada about our absence for tomorrow?" Dimity queries.
"That we have been summoned by the council to offer any details that we can recall as witnesses."
"Are we doing the right thing by omitting the pertinent details to Cackles?"
"I cannot speak for you, Dimity. For myself I can attest to the fact that I do not intend to further participate in this charade."
"Jury is still out for me," Dimity admits.
"I worry for the ramifications of the craft. What will become of the dozen plus unwanted lives this tragedy has created? Will the darkness succeed in breeding more darkness?"
"How long have you been sitting with that?"
"Since the very moment that we learned the magnitude of this situation."
"How are you feeling?"
"Enraged seems too subtle of a word," Hecate explains.
"I meant physically," Dimity clarifies.
"Regretfully, nauseated."
"How long had it been since you last attended on of these events?"
"Twelve years ago when we hosted the event. The last event that required my attendance was due to an outbreak of varicella in which Ada was rendered unable to attend."
"Do you find it odd that she was suffering from gastroenteritis this time, and you were forced to attend?"
"Are you suggesting that she is somehow complicit in all of this?"
"Adamantly, no. It simply makes me question the complexity of this plot. It would be very difficult for anyone to tamper with food after the incident with Agatha years ago. Miss Tapioca is vigilant with process, and safety these days."
"The problem must lie somewhere in the supply," Hecate suggests.
"We should probably get some shut eye," Dimity suggests.
"I fear that rest is beyond my grasp."
"As do I."
"Despite what I know about the situation I find it unreasonable to believe that there is truth behind all of this."
"I keep asking myself when I will wake from this nightmare," Dimity admits.
"This reality is far harsher than any of my most disquieting nightmares."
"I always dream I am being eaten by a tree."
"I presume everyone has their own brand of horror."
"What fears do your subconscious grapple with in your slumber?" Dimity queries.
"I wake up outside these walls with no magic, and I am an ordinary human being."
Dimity grins, "You would never succeed."
"At being a mere mortal?"
"No amount of perseverance on your part would allow you to be ordinary."
"I appreciate the sentiment."
"I should retire to my bed so that I can use expert level acrobatics to craft knots into the top sheet."
"I feel responsible for your plight," Hecate lets slip as Dimity is nearly to the door.
Dimity furrows her brow, "Why would you feel in anyway responsible?"
"If I hadn't convinced you to accompany me to that wretched mixer you would not be in such a position."
"You feel it would be preferable to be experiencing every bit of this on your own?"
"It would be preferable not to be enduring any of this at all."