Chapter 63

Ivy’s eyes flew open as she stared at Jamison in disbelief. “You can’t do it?!” What a quack! He dares to try anyway? Isn’t he afraid he’ll kill someone?

Jamison glanced at her, his voice cool and unhurried. “I’m a surgeon. Traditional medicine isn’t my specialty, but I know a thing or two.”

“No, no, that’s quite alright—” Ivy cut him off, refusing to believe a word. In her mind, he was already branded an incompetent hack. “I’d like to live a few more years, thanks very much…”

Jamison remained calm and steady. “The man on the phone is Professor Brown, a member of the National Academy of Sciences and from a long line of physicians. With him guiding me, you won’t die on my watch.”

Ivy fell silent, suspicion and unease written all over her face.

Jamison kept talking to Professor Brown on speakerphone, then turned and ordered Ivy, “Lift your shirt. Lower your pants a little.”

Ivy’s eyes went wide. She looked at him, bristling with resistance and suspicion.

“In a doctor’s eyes, there’s no difference between men and women. Besides, with a body as skeletal as yours…” He trailed off, the implication clear: he wasn’t the least bit interested.

Jamison had a tongue sharp enough to wound. If Ivy weren’t doubled over in pain and worn out, she would have had the energy to fire back at least three hundred retorts.

The tension between them hung thick in the air.

The phone was still on speaker. Professor Brown heard Ivy’s voice and spoke with gentle concern, “Miss, what kind of pain do you usually experience? Describe it for me so I can make a proper assessment.”

Ivy hesitated, but the old professor’s kindness put her at ease. She lay back again and, voice small and soft, described her symptoms.

Professor Brown named a few pressure points and gave Jamison precise instructions. Jamison, steady and confident, went through the steps: disinfecting, inserting the needles, adjusting them, each movement fluid and practiced – not at all like someone new to the technique.

As he worked, Ivy could feel something happening at each spot – sometimes a dull ache, sometimes a tingling, sometimes a heavy pressure.

After each needle, Professor Brown would ask Ivy how it felt, using her feedback to assess Jamison’s technique.

“Jamison, well done. If you ever find the time, come apprentice under me – l’d gladly pass down everything I know.” The old professor, clearly a longtime admirer of Jamison’s skill, seized the chance to praise him again.

Jamison just chuckled. “Thank you, Professor Brown. I’m a bit swamped at the moment.”

Eyes closed, Ivy gradually felt her body relax, a wave of drowsiness overtaking her.

Listening to their conversation, she couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. Jamison Ludwig, this quack, was obviously using her as a guinea pig for his experiments – and now he’d even earned himself a compliment.

Out in the hall, Micah noticed the quiet in the bedroom and gently pushed the door open a crack, peeking in.

He saw Ivy lying flat on her back, a corner of the blanket pulled over her chest, her abdomen and legs exposed, silver needles sticking out here and there. The sight startled him so much he nearly jumped, quickly closing the door again.

The acupuncture session lasted thirty minutes. Ivy truly felt the pain ease.

She hadn’t really slept for two days and nights, and today’s ordeal had left her utterly exhausted. So when the pain finally lifted, she drifted off to sleep without even noticing.

Jamison ended the call, checked the time, and then carefully removed every needle.

He touched her hands and feet – they finally felt warm, no longer clammy and cold with sweat.

Her face, too, had lost its ghostly pallor.

He pulled the blanket over her, tucking her in before leaving the room. Outside, he found his nephew waiting anxiously by the door.

“How is she, Uncle?” Micah asked in a whisper. “Is Ivy asleep, or…?”

Jamison gave him a sidelong glance. “If you’re so worried she might die, why did you go and make trouble in the first place?”

Micah looked both regretful and earnest. “We loved each other once. No matter what happens… I can’t just let her go.”