Chapter Thirty-Three

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Outside the infirmary windows, darkness had settled completely. The dim glow of the evening filtered through the glass, leaving the room bathed in a soft, dusky light.

Emma sat quietly beside an empty cot, her body heavy with exhaustion after a long day of healing. Her energy was nearly gone, and the urge to lie down and surrender to sleep was overwhelming.

But with Cindy's injury still fresh beneath a cloth, Emma couldn't afford to rest yet. The wound, already beginning to scar, had started to form beneath Cindy's eyelid.

Emma leaned back slightly, her eyes closing and resting her head on the edge of the sheet. Her thoughts drifted, weighed down by fatigue and the emotional toll of the day. Cindy's injury had taken a lot out of her. So had James's.

James had been in the infirmary too, but his injury was nearly healed now. Emma had tried to tend the wound herself—something Melany usually handled. She had known how to wrap wounds properly.

Now, Emma would have to check for other serious injuries in the daycare soon. But she didn't want to.

Esme came skidding into the church infirmary, breathless and wild-eyed. She'd been gone for a long time, apparently to bury Luke.

"I gave Luke a makeover," Esme announced. "I tied him to a surgical table and cut off the rest of his arm. I also plucked his eyebrows and cut his hair."

Emma's jaw dropped, her eyes widened. "You cut off the rest of Luke's arm? How is that even possible? I mean, half the time he's beating someone up."

"I knocked him out with some machine drug," Esme explained. "Now he's tied up. He'll stay there for a long time."

"And he's just tied up in the hospital?" Emma asked.

Esme nodded quickly, wobbling slightly as she stood. Her eyes flickered between Cindy and James, both still asleep, her eyebrows knitting together in thought.

"Who's going to be the new doctor?" Esme asked.

Emma didn't have an answer. Who had enough skill to administer medication? She had never done that—her ability was healing with her hand . Cindy didn't know much either, even though she'd spent more time in the infirmary.

"Can you think of anyone from Uden who could?" Esme pressed.

Emma shook her head. Nobody came to mind. Occasionally, people showed up to help, but they never stayed long—they'd get confused.

Esme began poking James's cheek. He stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering open.

"Let him rest!" Emma exclaimed, slapping Esme's hand away.

"He was a superhero today! He beat up Luke," she said proudly, throwing a few air punches for effect.

Emma sighed, shaking her head. "And he got shot," she muttered."But we got the bullet out."

Suddenly, she pushed Esme gently aside, eyes locked on James. He slowly raised his leg with ease, eyes widening in shock.

"You actually took the bullet out?" Esme asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "I thought you'd throw up."

Emma bit her lip, remembering the slimy, bloody sensation. The bullet had been stuck deep in James's leg. She nearly vomited trying to pull it out, but her healing ability had prevented any permanent damages.

"I wasn't much of a superhero," James mumbled.

"Lukey probably would've shot more of us," Esme said with a wry smile as she took off her shoes and sat on a cot. "My feet aren't bloody! I'm getting better at maintaining it."

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