Harper
I tried saying I'm fine three times on the way to Aton's clinic. None of them took.
Vane wasn't carrying me, which was its own minor miracle. He'd offered, I'd refused, and we'd compromised on a setup where my legs walked and his hand stayed exactly two inches off my elbow, ready to catch whatever the floor tried to do to me.
Twenty steps in, my right knee did a polite little wobble. I pretended to fix the sling. Vane saw it anyway. His pace dropped half a gear. He didn't say a word. Which was somehow louder than if he had.
Aton opened the door, took one look at the dried smear under my nose, and the doctor face dropped clean off him like a coat. The Beta underneath didn't bother with bedside manner.
"Sit. Now."
He pulled out some scanner I'd never seen. Two little wafers stuc
