Page 38 of Blind Justice

She laughed despite herself, sniffing as she adjusted the peas ice pack on her wrist. “For the record, it was a telemarketer who called me.”

His brow arched. “Figures. The universe has great timing.” He swept some of her hair behind her ear.

Ruth sighed briefly, leaning into his touch.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

She looked at her ugly, swollen wrist pushing against her glove. “Hurts. Another Christmas gift is going to bite the dust. The gloves even had the touch screen pads.”

He chuckled. “I will get you a new pair.”

Ruth sighed, “Thank you.”

* * *

Their banter seemedto distract her until her name was finally called. As she rose, Noah immediately stood beside her, his protective instincts kicking in. He didn’t hover, but his eyes stayed sharp, scanning every move the staff made.

Inside the exam room, the attending nurse gently cut her glove free. Well, as gently as she could. Ruth closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. When the glove was removed, the swelling and darkened bruising on her wrist oozing toward her palm became evident. Noah winced inwardly but kept his expression neutral.

“Well, you look… festive,” the x-ray technician noted, gesturing to the gold sequins on her sweater that twinkled under the room’s lights. “Hope you can get to where you were going to celebrate the new year.” She used it as a distraction as she manipulated her wrist on the table.

Ruth cried out, her face crumpling with pain. Noah’s heart twisted at the sound, and he instinctively reached for her free hand. She squeezed his fingers tightly, her grip shaky.

“Just hang on,” he murmured. “You’re doing great.”

Ruth gritted her teeth as Noah’s gaze fixed on the injury. His gut churned—it looked bad.

After a quick x-ray, the diagnosis was in—both her radius and ulna were fractured. The young orthopedic resident reviewed the results. “You may need surgery. Maybe I can cast it, and you can come back on the second for the surgery. I want to confirm, this is your dominant hand?”

Ruth nodded and looked devastated, her breath hitching as the reality set in.

Noah leaned closer, his voice low and reassuring. “I’m calling Tristan. He’ll make sure you get the best care. No shortcuts.”

When Tristan called Noah back, his voice was calm but firm. “I’ve contacted the orthopedic attending and pulled up her x-ray. It looks like a clean break. The ulna didn’t displace; it just cracked. The radius displaced. He’ll try a closed reduction, but no guarantees it’ll work without surgery. It may displace the other fracture. They’ll use lidocaine to numb it, and the attending will reset it.”

Noah relayed the plan to Ruth, watching her pale but nod. “Let’s get this over with,” she whispered.

Another hour later, the orthopedist arrived, older and seasoned, with a confidence that immediately reassured Noah. The resident prepared the supplies under his supervision. Ruth lay on the exam bed, her trembling good hand still in Noah’s.

“First, a local anesthetic,” the orthopedist explained, holding up a syringe filled with lidocaine. “This will numb the area so you shouldn’t feel the reduction. It will keep it numb for six to eight hours.”

Ruth nodded, biting her lip as the needle slid into the swollen skin near her wrist. She winced but didn’t pull away, her fingers tightening on Noah’s hand.

“Almost done,” Noah said, his voice steady. “Just a few seconds more.” The doctor depressed the plunger on the syringe.

Once the area was numb, the orthopedist gently tested her wrist. “You’ll feel some pressure now but not pain. Let me know if it’s too much.”

Ruth tensed as he began manipulating the bone, his experienced hands guiding the radius back into alignment. The sickening grating sound made Noah’s stomach churn, but he kept his gaze locked on Ruth, not the procedure.

She let out a sharp cry despite the anesthetic, her face streaked with tears. Noah leaned in, his forehead nearly touching hers. “Breathe with me, Rae. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Rae—it was the first time he called her that, her initials. The new nickname distracted her briefly.

After several long, agonizing minutes, the orthopedist finally straightened, his expression satisfied. “All set. We’ll take another x-ray to confirm, then cast it.”

The x-ray showed a successful alignment, sparing her from surgery. Relief flickered across Ruth’s face as the resident returned to apply the cast. Noah stayed by her side, holding her steady as the wet plaster was molded around her forearm.

“It’s going to be stiff for a while,” the orthopedist said, wrapping up the process. “But it should heal fine with time. About six weeks.”

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