Sansa

Clink. Clink clink. A soft furry paw slid the coins across the table. “Thank you very much!” Sansa gave a slight grin. “Sliding you into next week should be no problem at all.” Her eyes lingered on the hopeful Pearlcatcher, “I hope you find what you seek, Mulberry.” With muttered thanks, Mulberry took her leave.
Standing in wait behind her an older bronze ridgeback creaked, “Ah, Mr. Turnstall! Good to see you back. Another chance with the mystery machine?”
“Hm? Ah, yes, yes, Miss Sansa. I expect your father has some hours free?”
“Certainly!” The Tundra picked up the thread quickly, “The machine should be ready for another spin by Monday. Would you like a morning slot or an evening slot?”
“Ah, uh. Evening, thanks very much.”
“No problem! Next in line?”
The line of would be patients thinned eventually, until there was only one dragon standing in wait. A thin, blue Nocturne she didn’t recognize.
Pasting on her ready saleswoman smile, she tilted her head imploringly and spoke the customary, “Hello, Alhazred’s Alchemical Amazery, how can we improve your life today-“
“Bones.” The nocturne cut in “She won’t stop shaking. My daughter. What did you DO to her?”
Sansa’s eyes snapped wide. Not another one.
There were two different lives, her father’s public persona, the scientific genius extrorinare who preformed miracles for the public, and his other, more discreet, more lucrative line of work. The one he was prouder of. The one he got to really experiment with.
As his assistant, accountant, and head of PR, it was Sansa’s job to keep the two lives from bleeding over or overlapping in Any way! She set her jaw and quickly looked around. Leaning forward quickly, speaking low, she asked the woman, “What was your daughter’s name, Ma’am? I’ll have to check her records.”
The crowd had mercifully dispersed by this point, but, still, Sansa lead her inside the clinic and off into a side room. “Na-Najorie.”
“Here she is, Najorie Burke, right?” Sansa’s friendly tone was back again.
The Nocturne nodded once, small.
Oh no.
No, no. This wasn’t right.
This little girl had been brought in for a sharp persistent cough. A simple PR stunt. Easy treatment.
How had she gotten on THAT list?
Had this happened before? She would need to check and recheck all of her own and her father’s records, but, maybe this was just a… tragic one off mistake.
Even as she considered it, a contrary suspicion grew.
She took the woman’s hand with her left paw. “Mrs. Burke, we’ll figure out what’s wrong with your daughter. Please if you could, bring her by my office this evening.” She passed her a card with her number on it with the other paw.
“Your office,” Mrs. Burke piped, confused, “But isn’t your father-“
She shook her head and brought up her most reassuring (and stealth worthy) smile. “Pediatric cases are my purview.”
“Aah. Okay. Of course.” Mrs. Burke breathed.
“See you both this evening, Mrs. Burke!”