the healer’s touch
Colleen Anderson
“Dr. Petrovna, we need you now! In the ER.”
Hela’s concentration broke, her visualization of muscle and bone disappearing as she looked up toward the door. The man’s face flashed away from the opening. He left the door open, urgent voices drifting in from down the hall. The mending slowed on the child’s leg, fractured in three places. The girl whimpered.
“Damn it,” she whispered, not wanting to wake the child from the light sedation.
Bending over the leg, she laid her tattooed hand on the bruised flesh and fracture again. The nanotechnology embedded along her inked design glowed a soft silvery light, and her fingertips left pools of brightness on the girl’s flesh.
“Dr. Petrovna, we need you!”
She kept her eyes closed. “I’m not an ER doctor and I’m
