"Finally," Morgana's mother mutters when Morgana enters the stark, clinical lab, the heavy door clicking shut behind her.
The place reeks of sterilization, chemical and cold, walls too white, lighting too bright.
And in the middle of it, there's two hired doctors.
"Where is she?" Christina asks, eyes narrowing impatiently.
"In the car," Morgana replies flatly before turning to the doctors. Her tone authoritative. "Get her."
The doctors rush out of the room, their coats flaring behind them, and return almost immediately with Mira.
Unconscious and limp, she's carried between them. They lay her gently onto the examination bed.
While the doctors begin their tests, Morgana and Christina speak in hushed voices off to the side.
