“I’m talking about menstrual blood.” The tree makes a pleased hum. “Show me.” Humiliation rushes through my veins, burning every inch of my skin with shame. I have never let anyone see me remove a tampon, let alone a menstrual cup, but this is a matter of life and death. With a groan, I lower myself into a squat. “What are you doing?” it asks. “There’s something inside me that catches the blood.” I reach between my legs, but a branch slaps me on the hand. “Ouch.”
