Page 53 of Shadows of Recovery

Damon was led to the square by his brothers, his mother’s tears the only outward sign of dissent. The townsfolk gathered quickly, whispers and murmurs spreading through the crowd as they realized what was about to happen. Everyone began gathering. It was rare to see the family together without some prior announcement.

In the center of the square stood a large wooden post, its purpose clear. Damon’s heart pounded as he was brought to it, his coat removed and his wrists bound tightly with rough rope. His brothers were the ones to tie him to the post, their faces a mix of anger, disappointment, and pity.

Nathan, now the de facto leader, stepped forward to address the crowd. "Today, we are faced with the consequences of betrayal and recklessness. Damon has endangered our community, our family, and our way of life. For his actions, he must be punished." His brothers pulled his shirt free.

A murmur ran through the crowd. The public punishment was a rare and solemn event, one that everyone knew about, but few had witnessed.

Nathan continued, his voice steady, "We will not tolerate actions that put our family at risk. Damon’s punishment will serve as a reminder to all of us that our unity and safety come above all else."

He signaled, and two men wearing balaclavas stepped forward, each holding a long, flexible cane. The first stroke landed with a crack, and Damon gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out. The pain was sharp and immediate, burning through his back like fire.

Stroke after stroke, the punishment continued. Each of the twenty strikes was a reminder of his failure, each lashing a testament to the family’s resolve to maintain order and discipline. Damon’s vision blurred with tears he refused to let fall, his pride the only thing left unbroken.

Finally, Nathan raised his hand, signaling the end of the punishment. Damon hung limply from the post, his back a latticework of raw, bloody welts. The crowd remained silent.

Nathan approached Damon, his voice low but carrying to the edges of the square. "Let this be a lesson to us all. We must remain vigilant, disciplined, and united. Our family’s survival depends on it."

The crowd slowly dispersed, muttering about how they never expected to see a Whitlock punished. As Damon was untied and carried away by his brothers, he knew the family’s position was strengthened, and his position in the community had changed. He knew once the punishment was dealt out and served, he was supposed to be forgiven, but the pain in his back was nothing compared to the ache of his shattered pride.

His father’s words echoed in his mind, warning that failure had a price. Damon had become an example. And as he lay in his bed that night, the pain of his punishment was a constant reminder.

Twenty

At James's insistence, Tristan reluctantly took a shower in the physician's locker room. The hot water cascaded over him, washing away the grime and sweat of the long, grueling week. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply exist in the warmth, but the memories of the last few days clung to him, heavy and unyielding. When he finally stepped out, he felt marginally better, though he was still filled with worry and guilt.

Tristan found the surgeon’s lounge, a place where he could lie down and attempt to rest. Sleep came fast and hard, but it was not peaceful. He dreamed Sophie died, her lifeless body slipping away from him no matter how desperately he tried to hold on. The dream was so vivid, so real, he woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest.

Panic gripped him as he slid his feet into his shoes and ran for the ICU. The corridors were a blur, his mind filled with images of Sophie, fragile and broken. When he finally reached her room, he found her lying there like Sleeping Beauty, her face serene despite the bandages and monitors.

Her sister Isobel was sitting beside her, keeping a silent vigil. She looked up as Tristan entered, her eyes filled with empathy and understanding. Seeing the worry etched on his face, she vacated her seat and gestured for him to sit beside Sophie. “Go ahead. She needs you.”

Tristan nodded, gratitude and relief mingling in his heart. He slipped his hand around Sophie’s, holding it tightly as if his touch alone could keep her tethered to life. Isobel watched him for a moment, then gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

Tristan shook his head, his eyes never leaving Sophie’s face. “I should have protected her,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “I failed her, Isobel. I wasn’t there when she needed me the most.”

Isobel crouched beside him. “You did everything you could. None of this is your fault. If anything,Ifailed her. I’ve spoken to women who fled the Eldon Sect. I knew how sick Damon Whitlock was.”

“This wasn’t your fault.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I promised her. I promised I would keep her safe. And look at her now.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “Sophie wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. She needs you to be strong, to be here for her. You can’t carry this guilt. It’s toxic to both of you.”

Tristan nodded, though his guilt felt unbearable. He sat with Sophie for a long time, his heart aching with the desire to take her pain away, to make things right.

James found his brother later, staring blankly at a cup of cold coffee. Tristan looked up as James sat down across from him, concern etched in his features.

"Tristan, there's something we need to talk about," he began, his tone serious.

Tristan frowned, setting down his cup. "What is it?"

"I spoke with Kay Birdham earlier," James said, watching Tristan's reaction carefully. "She tried to interfere in my conversation with Audrey and Jenna about Sophie and you. I warned her off, but I have a bad feeling she’s going to be trouble."

Tristan's face darkened at the mention of Kay. "What did she say?"

"She was dismissive of Sophie's condition," James replied, shaking his head. "Seemed more interested in stirring up drama than showing any real concern. I told her you needed a clean slate. You need to move on from past relationships and start fresh with Sophie, without any interference from her. I told her to stay out of it, but she didn’t seem to care."

Tristan clenched his jaw, anger bubbling up inside him. "Kay has recently been a thorn in my side. She wants me back, but our relationship died five years ago. I don't need her making things worse right now, but I do need her to maintain her staff position. She carries a significant patient load. I’ll call Chris Skylar.”

"Exactly," James said, his voice firm. "You need to focus on Sophie and yourself. Avoid her as much as possible."

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