The ones who live hidden in plain sight (A discovery of witches story)

Bones

There goes my mind

Don't mind

There goes my mind

'Cause there is magic

By Imagine dragron

Camille had arrived at the practice, impatient, as Clara had agreed to take her for an appointment. After giving her name, she sat down, observing her surroundings. The waiting room was decorated with a soothing simplicity that helped. The walls were painted a pale, almost pastel blue, a colour chosen to calm the often agitated spirits of the patients waiting there. A few paintings framed the walls, watercolours depicting serene landscapes - fields of lavender, tranquil seashores - that seemed to whisper an invitation to relax. Soft lighting, subdued by linen lampshades, bathed the room in a warm glow.

The furniture was simple but comfortable. The chairs, covered in light grey fabric, were arranged in a circle around a light-wood coffee table, on which magazines were neatly stacked. The covers of the magazines, mainly publications on parenting and women's health, displayed images of smiling babies and happy families, reminding Camille why she was there. On one side of the table, a vase held fresh flowers, pink and white peonies, their sweet scent wafting lightly through the air. One corner of the room was reserved for children, with a colourful carpet and a few wooden toys - blocks, animal figurines and picture books - arranged in an orderly fashion. The contrast between this colourful space and the rest of the room accentuated the duality of the place, both professional and welcoming, dedicated to both adults and soon-to-be-born toddlers.

She looked down at her belly, thinking of the baby and the three tests to be sure, but what Andrew had done came back to her, it wasn't possible, it simply wasn't possible. She plunged into a news paper, forcing herself to read it, realistic facts. Her heart stilled. A woman, six months pregnant came out, with her husband, both smiling.

Clara, in her blouse, came out, smiling when she saw her, with a little gesture telling her to come in. They exchanged a few pleasantries in their workplace before her friend took over her role as doctor.

When the examination began, Camille stared at the screen, her heart pounding. Then she saw it. The baby. It was real, she thought, emotion overwhelming her. She could see the outline of this little life in the making. It was real. She was pregnant. Even before the doctor said a word, Camille guessed how far along the gestation period was:

- About twelve weeks? she guessed,

Her friend, amused, smiled:

- That's right.

Camille immediately apologised, a reflex, a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. Her friend shook her head, laughing softly.

- I would have done the same. Good heartbeat.

Normal, Camille thought. She thought back to what Andrew had said, 'The baby could be a witch or a wizard'. Absurd, but her heart raced in spite of herself.

- Camille? Her friend asked, bringing her back to reality.

- Sorry, she replied, a little disconcerted.

- No worries. Do you know what do you feel about this?

- I'm happy, very happy. It wasn't planned, but it's a baby. She wiped her eyes, losing herself for a moment in this dream come true.

After the examination, Clara handed over a towel to clean herself up, and as I did so, she asked another, more delicate question:

- other point, what about the father? You don't have to answer me, of course.