Page 59 of Ethan
The other option was to stay out here, in full view, knowing Nick and Ben would eventually walk by. They’d probably throw more comments about my supposed “inadequate healing skills.”
Better to take it head-on, I told myself.
If they were going to talk, then let them say it to my face.
I sat down at the desk and pulled the nearest file closer, though I barely registered the words on the page.
My eyes skimmed, but my mind kept spinning, replaying the morning like a bad song on repeat.
Half an hour dragged by. Each minute stretched thin, filled only with the faint rustle of paper and the steady thud of my heartbeat in my ears.
Finally, the exam room door opened.
Devon’s voice carried first, firm and even but weary. “No strenuous activity for the next week.Pleaseremember to come back for a checkup so we can make sure you’re healing right.”
Ben stepped out, eyes immediately locking onto me. His glare was sharp enough to cut, the kind that said everything without a word.
Nick followed, hesitated for half a second, and gave me the quickest nod before darting his gaze away.
Devon let out a tired sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. I hadn’t seen him in almost a month, and he already seemed older somehow.
Maybe it was the strain at home, or maybe this morning’s incident had taken more out of him than I realized.
I shifted on my chair, not wanting to drag this out any longer than it had to be.
“So, what did I do wrong?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Devon shook his head, a flicker of weariness in his eyes. “You tell me. Start from the beginning. Every single thing. What you did, what you thought, how you felt. Don’t leave anything out.”
I blinked at him. “You want me to—what, narrate my whole week?”
“Yes.” His tone brooked no argument. “I need to know not just what you did with your hands, Ethan, but where your head was while you were doing it.”
So I told him. Everything I could remember. From the moment we brought Nick and Ben into the clinic to the second I left this morning. I didn’t skip over anything.
Not the herbs I used, not how shaky my hands had gotten by the third night, not even the ungodly amount of protein bars I’d been inhaling between healing sessions just to keep upright.
Devon listened in silence, but the more I spoke, the more his mouth pressed into that thin, disappointed line. The same one that had been there when I walked in.
And when he did it again, pursing his lips like he was holding something back, I snapped.
“Just tell me what I did wrong.”
He stood up straighter, forcing his voice into calm even though I could hear the edge beneath it. “What is the most important thing I’ve ever told you?”
I racked my brain, annoyed. Then it hit me.A healer’s first responsibility is to their own body.
I scowled. There had to be more than that.
I didn’t want some pseudo–Yoda lecture I’d have to decode for the next six hours. I just wanted him to spit it out already so I could get back to the mountain of work I hadn’t finished last night.
“You didn’t make sure Nick came back for a follow-up,” he said finally.
I blinked. “That’s it?”
Devon’s jaw flexed. “They went for a walk in the woods. Nick tripped. Took some pain meds. By the time he admitted anything was wrong, his calf was swollen.”
I threw my hands up. “I told them to take it easy! I told them to come in if there was a problem!”
