FIONA
Of all the ways I had envisioned that I would die, boredom had never been one of them. But right now, it was at the top of my list.
It had been days since my injury. Days for which I had been confined to soft pillows and strict orders not to move about unnecessarily and I was about to lose my mind.
Ethan, backed by his uncle, had forbidden me from returning to the Medical Academy until my wrist had fully healed.
I had tried to tell him that I wouldn’t use my hands. I would just check on a few patients and follow the other doctors on their rounds. But he would not hear of it and when I pressed harder, he threatened to tie me to a chair in his room until I learned to listen.
He was treating me as though I were a reckless toddler who had stumbled too close to a flame and could
