FIONA
Reading, it turned out, was exhausting and practicing was even worse.
Ethan’s uncle did not believe in gentle instruction and he was just as mean to me now that he no longer hated my guts, as he was when he had.
Maybe even more so.
He believed in results and he demanded it with the cruelty of a man holding a whip.
The hours blurred together. Day after day of working as a doctor while also trying to learn to use my powers as a healer.
Ethan’s uncle taught me how to feel the warmth of the energy in my chest without releasing it.
How to channel it and how to listen to my body when it told me to stop before I broke it.
At first, I failed. Repeatedly.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, my body ached, and I couldn’t get past the seed of doubt in the back of my head telling me that
