Page 32 of These Fractured Bonds

But Erick didn’t stop.

“I’m so sorry. Hang in there. I’m almost there,” he said.

She began to cry.

“Found it.”

He touched the blunt trauma to her mind, and her vision went white. She heard herself scream before she lost consciousness.

Theskyhadgonedark by the time Yareli woke up; no light snuck in behind the curtains. A glass of water had been left on the nightstand, and she gulped it down. She grimaced at the dull ache in her temple. Dragging herself to the bathroom, she ran the faucet in the bathtub. As steam filled the bathroom, she inspected herself in the plain mirror. Her eyebags were heavy, her skin paper-thin. Whatever Erick had done had put her mind and body through the wringer. She could only hope that it had been worth it and that a treatment plan awaited her.

She settled into the copper tub, sighing in content as the hot water soothed her aching body. She wanted nothing more than to dissolve into the water, become one with it until it ceased rippling from her movement, and then, maybe, she would knowtranquility. But the world had other plans. No sooner had she laid her head back on the tub than there was a knock on the door.

Erick’s voice pierced through the wood. “I wanted to check in on you.”

Tranquility, or the facade of it, would have to wait. “Give me ten minutes.”

Ten minutes to rinse and get dressed. Barely enough time to give her a sense of normalcy. She gave herself one minute to be languid in the tub and then launched into action. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Erick was seated on a chair with a tray on his lap. He poured her a cup of tea.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the cup.

“I included a pain reducer for your headache. How are you feeling?”

“Hungover. Exhausted.” She sipped the sweet tea. “But much better with this.”

Erick nodded, drinking from his cup. “How’s your short-term memory?”

“It’s gotten better.”

“It’s not perfect?”

“Never has been.”

He chuckled, and she relaxed. Maybe it was the tea’s effect, but he was easy to be with. She thumbed the rim of her cup. The ardent question pressed against her chest until she couldn't hold it back any longer.

“Can you fix it?”

Erick, who had been glancing toward the window, turned back to her. His face, devoid of the nerves from earlier, was blank. It was a curated expression, the type medical professionals wore when they bore bad news, and her heart skipped a beat. She inhaled, preparing for the worst.

“The prognosis is good,” he said.

“But… ?”

“It will take months.”

She released the breath she held. She hadn’t expected a miracle, and “months” was a heck of a lot better thannever. And perhaps it was because Yareli had celebrated too early, but he had more to say.

“There’s something else.”

Yareli closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable blow, because it was life’s nature to throw a curveball when she least expected it.

“You’ve been cursed.”

Cursed…The concept failed to make sense to Yareli. Was it like themal ojoher mom warned her against? Was it an ailment that would destroy her physical body, or was it what plagued her memories? She was an idiot. Tuom was not the type of man to let his prisoners go easily; he had left her a parting gift.

Erick said, “It’s separate from your memory problem. It’s hard to explain right now, but it’s a nasty thing.” His stoic mask broke, and his face fell into a look of sympathy.

She looked away.