Chapter 48

Forty-Eight

Iwatch as Ember sits in Dr. Louie's tent, her pant leg rolled up as he prods her calf. It's been months since she came in with broken bones, so beaten that it took a week just for her to be able to sit up in bed. Her husband did a number on her then, but he won't get a chance to repeat his actions.

We should have killed him when we had the chance.

None of us will say it, though, not to Ember. She already recognizes the mistake for what it was. She was trying to be a good person, but sometimes, you can't be when the demons come knocking. Sometimes, you have to battle darkness with darkness.

"It looks good," Dr. Louie says as he turns her leg and bends her knee, testing it. "Everything is healing well."

Ember sits forward with a grin. "Does this mean I'm fully cleared now?"

Dr. Louie taps her knee. "I suggest continuing your stretches and gaining your strength back, but otherwise, I don't see why not. You've been doing well with putting muscle back on."

Ember beams under Dr. Louie's praise, and I don't blame her. We all like to see Dr. Louie proud. He's practically a father to us. The last time I was hurt, I was so overcome with emotion as he cared for me, I cried—not that I'll ever tell anyone that. It just means that Dr. Louie is a special part of the cirque. He looks after every single person who comes through these tents, every member of our family. He tends to cuts and scrapes, illnesses, broken bones, and sour stomachs. He sees the worst of us, and I know it wears on him, so when he sees us healing, it heals a part of him too.

"How does it feel?" he asks Ember. He's careful when he touches her, always asking permission first. He knows our girl as well as we do.

"Better than ever," she says with a smile, flexing her knee for good measure. "I'll be doing gymnastics in no time."

Dr. Louie laughs and pats her knee before standing. "Well then, I'd say you're all healed, my girl."

Her smile falters a little. "Not yet," she murmurs, looking down. "I can't be yet."

Dr. Louie seems to understand what she means—that she may be healed physically, but she still has internal things to mend. With Roger still skulking around, I don't blame her. It's like her trauma is literally haunting her, a problem we'll soon take care of.

"It'll come," Louie murmurs before he reaches for her shoulder and gives it a squeeze, ever a source of comfort in the cirque. "You're family. This is where you belong, Ember." When she looks up at him in question, he adds, "We take care of our family."

She nods and stands. "Thank you, doc, for everything."

In her eyes, I see the knowledge that she belongs here, that this is her home, and she'll fight tooth and nail to keep it safe.

I wouldn't have our queen any other way.