He didn’t really relax until the doc got out a machine that looked like a power cut-off and turned to him, grinning. “You’re going out of here a free man, Mr. Norgard. You heal fast, but don’t push your luck. It’s going to take some time to get back to normal agility and strength with that leg.”
The saw whined through the fiberglass, spitting dust, and the cast fell into two pieces. Dylan wiggled his toes, eased down on the foot, and slowly put weight on it. No pain. It felt stiff and itched like a flea-bit dog where the air touched his skin, but he could stand on it without discomfort. Whew.
A few minutes later, he walked to the waiting room, feeling about ten years younger and fifty pounds lighter. Grey looked up, anxiety painting his face. Then he saw the cast was gone and a wide grin
