Of all the wild things my cousin had bragged about, two of her "tricks" left me horrified.
As a gynecologist, I knew the dangers better than anyone. We’re not just talking about STDs—this stuff could tear muscle, leave long-term damage, even cause internal scarring. When I warned her about the risks, she just laughed at me like I was some prude.
“Relax. We used protection,” she said with a roll of her eyes, like that magically made it safe.
Not long after she and Owen got involved, Aunt Hannah introduced her to some rich heir she’d been grooming her for.
He had one requirement—his future wife had to be a “pure” woman. In other words, untouched.
Aunt Hannah practically begged me to perform the surgery. She wanted me to “fix” Alison. Create the illusion of virginity. I tried to explain the risks—loss of sensation, scarring, complications—but she didn’t care. She saw a golden ticket and I was the tool to get it.
I pulled Alison aside and told her the truth. Every detail.