Chapter 79

Jason strode into the hospital room. His gaze swept over the beeping machines, the wall-mounted X-rays, and the physician standing quietly at Grace’s bedside.

“You’re here!” Grace said.

“There was a traffic jam on the highway, otherwise I would have been here sooner,” Jason replied.

She smiled. “You arrived faster than I expected.” She picked at the bedsheets. “I hate that I inconvenienced you…”

Jason moved to the opposite side of the hospital bed to speak directly with the physician. Lina returned to the room, handing Grace a small cup of water. “One second you were in the ER, the next you were gone. Sorry, Grace. It took me a minute to figure out where they’d moved you.”

“I’m fine,” Grace said easily, sipping the water.

“Doctor, how is she?” Lina asked. “Is my friend all right? She was pushed down several steps by someone on the escalator.”

Grace watched Jason as Lina recounted the events. She wasn’t too happy with her friend for being so forthcoming. A muscle in Jason’s jaw twitched.

“The injury isn’t too serious,” the doctor said. “Thankfully, there’s no internal hemorrhaging or any signs of TBI—traumatic brain injury.”

Lina sighed loudly in relief.

“What did you discover?” Jason asked, his voice deadly calm.

Dr. Craigge turned back to him. “There are some slight fractures. We’ll put her foot in a brace, and she should stay off it for a few weeks to allow the bones around her ankle to heal, but…” Dr. Craigge hesitated.

“But what?” Jason asked, his tone frigid.

Grace trembled.

“There are injuries that indicate more sustained, systemic trauma.” He gestured toward the X-rays of her hands. “You sustained multiple broken bones and fractures. Many of these finger injuries didn't heal properly, and at this stage, re-breaking and resetting them is unlikely to improve the situation due to bone fusion and the time elapsed.”

Grace lowered her gaze.

The doctor cleared his throat. “I’ve noticed several areas on your hands, arms, feet, and legs that indicate significant trauma.”

Grace pressed her lips together. She knew exactly who and what had caused those injuries. The doctor seemed to be fishing for information; he probably thought she was an abused woman. And she had been, just not by a husband or family member. Grace’s injuries were the result of retaliation on behalf of wealthy families.

“What is the prognosis on the older injuries?” Jason asked carefully, his voice laced with hostility.

“It’s hard to say,” Dr. Craigge admitted. “In my professional opinion, given the traumas and how they healed, there will be complications. If Miss Cummins had received proper care at the time, the situation would be different now…”

“Complications?” Grace frowned. “But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my body.”

“You’re still young, so the effects will be less pronounced, and you’ve adapted to the pain. But injuries like this can contribute to degenerative issues, so as you age, the complications will gradually worsen.”

“What kind of complications?” Jason asked bluntly.

“In the future, you may experience frequent joint pain. Arthritis is almost certain. You may have sustained nerve damage or cramping. If it’s serious, you might have difficulty lifting heavy objects or walking,” Dr. Craigge said.

Grace remained silent, looking down at her hands and feet. Her old wounds were from her time in prison. Prisoners received minimal treatment—no skilled surgeons to reset her bones. Her fingers were put in makeshift splints and taped.

The attacks had been painful, and the recovery even more so. Even now, her bones and joints ached. The doctor’s prognosis of residual pain and worsening, debilitating injuries made perfect sense.

“Then… is there any way to cure it?” Lina’s voice trembled.

Grace remained relatively quiet.

“You need to recuperate and eat a diet high in calcium. Osteoporosis later in life would significantly exacerbate these issues. Eat foods that reduce swelling and inflammation. Take vitamins and minerals. And you must take better care of yourself; you can’t continue to abuse your body,” Dr. Craigge said.

Grace leaned back, lost in thought. These last few years had been nothing but abuse. Since leaving prison, she’d been attacked by her own sister, by Sean’s ‘friends,’ and even his sister and fiancée. Would she ever know peace?

“…she can stay a few days for observation,” Dr. Craigge was saying.

“No. I want to go home.”

“Grace, I think you should listen to the doctor,” Jason said.

“I will,” she agreed. “I’ll take it easy and rest. Please. I just want to go home.”

Jason gave a barely perceptible nod.

“Lina,” Jason said, “please work with Dr. Craigge to determine any medications Grace will need and what follow-up treatments he recommends.”

Grace held out her arms to Jason, and he carefully helped her to rise from the bed. Lina remained to get the prescriptions, and Jason guided Grace into the hallway. When she winced, he sat her in the nearest chair. “This is ridiculous. Go back to that hospital bed and rest.”

Her eyes watered. “I don’t want to stay here. Please.”

He muttered a curse.

“I probably can’t just walk out of here,” Grace said, rubbing her head. “I’m sure there will be paperwork, and I’ll have to set up a payment plan. The county offers insurance, but I don’t think it’ll cover much of this.”

“Let’s not worry about that now,” Jason said. “Does it hurt?”

“Actually, it’s not that bad,” Grace said, pulling her sweater over her hospital gown and buttoning it. “My ankle aches, but honestly, I’ve had worse. You heard the doctor. He said it’ll only take a few weeks to heal.”

Jason pressed his lips together. “The old wounds the doctor mentioned—did you get them in prison?”

Grace feigned relaxation, smiling. “I was beaten in prison several times, but it wasn’t serious.”

Jason cursed again.

“Truly, it’s not a big deal. I think the doctor was being a bit dramatic. I’ll be fine. Some vitamins, some rest, and these old wounds will be a thing of the past.”

The calmer she was, the angrier Jason became.

“Sister, do you hate the person who put you in prison?” he suddenly asked.

She laughed lightly. “Who would I hate? Should I hate the judge? The Atkinson family? The Stevens family, who have been unwilling to help me? Or maybe I should hate Jason Reed himself, because, really, he’s the root of everything.”