The medical facility was sterile and cold. Prue sat on the examination table while her father stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the medical team assemble their equipment.

A nurse approached with scissors. “We’ll need to cut off your clothing, Miss Brooks. It’ll be easier than trying to—”

“No.” Prue’s hand shot out, gripping the woman’s wrist. “I’m not letting you cut my clothes off.”

The nurse blinked, surprised. “Miss Brooks, it’s standard procedure. You’ve ...