Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom

Chapter 18

A moment later, Victor conceded with a resigned sigh. "I'll examine her, but don't expect me to treat her," he said.

He walked back to the bedside, set down his medical kit, and with a hint of frustration, tugged up Claire's pant leg. Muttering under his breath, he said, "I really don't understand why you go to such lengths for her. Someone like her should just be left to her own—"

His complaints abruptly ceased.

His gaze locked onto Claire's emaciated leg, as if glued by some invisible force, and he stared in shock at the twisted fracture. Waves of disbelief crashed over him.

Claire's right leg was a grotesque sight. The bone jutted at an unnatural angle beneath skin stretched so tight it barely seemed to cover the bones, with no hint of muscle or fat. The scar at the fracture site snaked across her pallid skin like a menacing centipede, surrounded by dark red bruises.

Victor gingerly touched her leg with his long, slender fingers, each contact filling him with dread. Despite his aversion to Claire, his professional instincts immediately assessed the severity of her injury.

"Was her leg always like this?" he asked.

The question landed like a stone on a tranquil pond, causing Ethan's eyes to flash with intensity. "Impossible. Her legs were fine the whole three years she was home."

Victor understood immediately; the injury must have happened while Claire was imprisoned.

Victor continued with the examination, his frown deepening with each new discovery. Claire's health was in dire straits-her body, weakened by prolonged malnutrition, bore layers of old and new injuries that

stood up, his voice hoarse,

study, Ethan's expression was grave.

choosing his words. "Are

Ethan shook his head.

tibia and fibula, in particular, require significant

accidents are unlikely. Her leg appears to have been

tissue, it wasn't properly treated. The bones healed

she must have endured is unimaginable. Surviving it all is

clenched into fists, knuckles white

rage boiling within him like molten lava threatening

How

struck repeatedly by some blunt tool while she was

vision with black spots. It took a long moment before he could quell the rage burning

there any hope for

"It's been at least three years. It's too late for