Chapter 15

After the three of them disconnected, Niko finalized the plans for the addition to the house and said goodbye to Lennard and Harlow. It had already been a tiring day, and Lennard still had to deal with Brodil. The concoction he had given Brodil wouldn't keep him asleep for much longer. So before he woke up, Lennard took stock of the supplies he needed to refill and made a list of ingredients he would need.

Once he was finished with the shopping list, he handed it to Harlow and sent him out to run the errand. This gave Lennard the clinic to himself for a while so he could deal with the unconscious man. He sat in one of the chairs in the recovery room and waited for Harlow's unconscious father to wake up. Brodil woke up much sooner than Lennard had hoped, not even allowing him a short nap.

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Brodil raised his head in an attempt to figure out where he was. He rarely woke up in a familiar place, and this time was no different. His head pounded with the usual next-day hangover, but along with his head, there was a deep soreness in his chest, hand, and mouth. He closed his eyes again and tried to recall what had happened last night.

His nights had all become a blur lately, one night of partying and sobbing himself to sleep followed by another. But this time, as he woke up, there was a tickle of something different, something relating to the added pains.

"Brodil," came a deep, somewhat familiar voice. A large hand nudged his arm. "Brodil!" This time, the voice was louder and stronger. Brodil cracked his eyes open to see a large man standing over him.

"Okay, I'll leave," he said, assuming he was being kicked out of someone's house or establishment again. "Am I dressed at least?" he asked the large figure.

"Brodil, this is not some flop pad, this is the clinic," the deep voice spoke again.

His brain still foggy, Brodil opened his eyes and looked around the room, which still spun slightly. "Okay, so I guess I got hurt somehow? What do I owe you?"

Lennard rolled his eyes and decided to just take the win. He had been dreading this encounter for what felt like hours now. If this guy couldn't even remember why he was here, Lennard would send him on his way and forget the entire incident.

"Don't worry about it," he said as he assisted Brodil up from the bed. "Just be more careful in the future."

Lennard didn't want to get into a discussion about what had happened to Brodil, especially since he was responsible for knocking him out. He just wanted to get him out of the clinic and get back to his own life.

Brodil wobbled, but found his balance and began staggering towards the back door. Lennard turned him in the correct direction and opened the front food for him to leave through. On his way out, Brodil half-heartedly raised his hand and waved back to Lennard. "Thanks, bud," he said, and staggered his way towards the alley.

"What a waste," Lennard muttered under his breath as he watched Brodil stagger away. "I truly hope this is the last we see of him, but I doubt it."

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Since the confrontation with Harlow's father came to an unusual but better-than-expected end, Lennard stepped back into the clinic and started preparing to restock. There were several plants he needed to harvest and pulverize, and a few which needed to be boiled properly. He sat down, took up his mortar and pestle, and reached for the spirichina when the bell to the clinic rang.

"Is that you, Harlow?" Lennard called out, glad Harlow had made so quickly.

"No, sir, it's Marney Thash," the voice, obviously holding back pain, said in response.

Lennard jumped up and went to greet the patient. As he rounded the corner, he saw the young girl who had served them lunch only a few hours earlier. She was standing in the waiting room with a blood-soaked towel wrapped around her left hand.

"Step in here and tell me what happened," Lennard said, gesturing her to the exam room.

"I was so dumb," she said, tears sliding down her face. "I grabbed a pot without realizing the handle had been sitting over a hot burner." Marney followed Lennard's gesture to the chair in the room and sat down.

Lennard pulled the table near to the chair and covered it with a fresh towel, the one from his own wound still laid atop it. "Let me grab some ointment and I'll take a look," he told his patient. He moved to the shelf where his bottle of Alue sat. He grabbed the Alue and stepped to the sink, where he filled a clean bowl with cold water and rags.

He moved back to Marney and placed the bowl on the table and her hand in the bowl. She winced and physically tensed. Slowly, he removed the towel and revealed the blistered and bloody skin underneath.

“Oh my, that’s bad,” Lennard said as he pulled the bloody towel from the water and gently began rinsing the wound with the clean rags. The blisters peeled and the skin sloughed off, revealing muscle. “Oh, worse than I thought! Keep your hand submerged, I will need to get some other supplies.” He said and moved off to the lab.

As he gathered supplies, Lennard thought to himself, “A burn that bad would be very difficult to do on her own. I think someone may have done that to her.” He kept the thought in the back of his mind as he returned to the exam room, arms full.

Marney sat, her hand still soaking in the bowl, the water now bright red. She was sobbing, holding her eyes with her uninjured hand. Lennard knew the pain from the burn would be incredibly intense, but had to wonder if there were more to her tears than just the pain in her hand.

"Here, Marney," Lennard said, holding out a small vial to the young lady. "Drink this. It'll make you sleepy, but it will also dull the pain."

She drank the greenish liquid down without question and handed the vial back to Lennard. "How long does it take?" she squeaked through gritted teeth.

"Not long at all, dear," Lennard said in his most soothing physician's voice. He laid his hand on her shoulder. "You should start feeling some relief any moment."

As if Lennard had cast a spell, the young lady closed her eyes and the muscles in her body relaxed. Lennard moved his hand from her shoulder to prop up her head as it fell back. He then lifted her from the chair and moved her to the operating table.

Her wound was much worse than she had let on. In order to save her hand, Lennard needed to remove the destroyed tissue before he could properly clean and dress the injury. Infection was always a real danger with third-degree burns.

Lennard carefully examined the wound, taking his time to assess the damage. He knew that he had to work quickly, but he also knew that he couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

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Harlow had been able to purchase all the needed supplies Lennard had listed for him to fetch at The Kinder Tinder. He had hoped to see Kinet, to thank him personally for the healing and show him just how much better he was thanks to his magical assistance. Unfortunately, Kinet had gone to gather a special flower which only bloomed under a new moon on a specific mountain valley to the West of town. His wife Alanitsa was manning the store today. She was always nice and gave Harlow a discount since he was here on Lennard's behalf.

He returned back to the clinic without incident and walked in the front door carrying a large bag of supplies. As soon as he entered, Lennard called out, "Harlow, is that you?" There was a sense of urgency in Lennard's voice, so without responding, Harlow dashed into the exam room.

Lennard was standing over a young girl who lay flat on the exam table. One hand lay extended out to rest on one of the portable tables, blood covered the area and dripped to the floor. "Harlow, I need your help," Lennard said and extended his tail to his lover.

Harlow dropped the bag of supplies on the ground and moved his tail to interlock with Lennard's. The moment froze as they once again entered the psychic space Harlow's mind produced.

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The walls around them blurred and distorted, the colors ran together and looked farther away. Their consciousnesses were released from their bodies, but retained a physical resemblance, unlike before. Their "glow" now looked like a glowing line drawing of their body rather than a floating orb as they had been perceived last time.

The strange new avatars which their consciousness now inhabited were as of yet unable to articulate. They showed as semi-solid renderings of their physical bodies. Each attempted to manipulate the glowing translucent images of themselves, but Harlow’s psychic abilities had not yet reached a point where this was possible.

The thick spinning vortex which connected them remained the same, but instead of entering into their presence directly, it curved down and bent, attaching them through their feet. There was also a faint glow coming from the patient, which both of them noticed immediately. Her color was pale rose but brownish with black imprints across areas of it. Her aura had no shape, just a faint glow that the two could see and sense, but had no connection to.

Harlow brought his and Lennard's psychic projections closer, sending Lennard a sense of fondness and curiosity. "Lennard, what's going on here?" He spoke to his partner.

Lennard's urgency was palpable as he was swept into Harlow's mindscape. He spoke in a rushed clip, his voice thick with concern.

"Harlow, her hand is severely burned," he said. "If we don't remove the dead tissue and restore the blood flow to her fingers, she'll lose her hand." Lennard didn't even pause for breath, which was convenient since breathing was unnecessary in this place.

"I need your hands as well as mine to save her hand," he continued. "Can you, you know, pull the stuff out of my brain like you did before, so you will know what we're doing?"

Harlow sensed Lennard's urgency and sent him waves of calm before speaking. "Lennard, remember what Niko told us, in here time moves much slower. We will hurry, but we don't want to rush."

It took a moment for Lennard's mind to stop racing. He remembered the time dilation offered in this space, and he was finally able to calm down. "You're right, rushing leads to mistakes," he said.

He took a deep breath and explained his interaction with Marney more calmly. He detailed the damage he could see, and how he believed they could save her hand if they worked in tandem.

"I know it's a long shot, but I believe it's our best chance," he finished.

"What you're asking though, it didn't go so great last time Lennard, and we haven't even had the time to talk or process what happened then." Harlow said, a touch of hesitance and fear in his voice.

Lennard wasn't sure how he did so, but he extended feelings of trust and sympathy to Harlow. It felt like he was giving him a big comforting hug.

"I know, and I should be more scared than you," Lennard said. "But right now we need to help her. That is why we are here, to help people."

Unbeknownst to Lennard, his words ran deeper into Harlow than he could have imagined. Harlow had always tried to be a good person, helping others when he could, but he had never felt a sense of purpose before.

At first, he enjoyed being Lennard's apprentice, but he wasn't sure how long that would last and wondered what profession he would try next. Over the years, Harlow learned he truly enjoyed being a physician, but he wasn't sure he really wanted to do the same thing as Lennard. He cared for people, but he wasn't sure that was really his calling. He enjoyed reading and making potions, laboratorial things more than the patient interactions.

His mindset had changed with The Bonding. He had accepted his new life with Lennard and fully intended to follow in his footsteps. However, the sense of purpose, the aspect of a person which defines who they really are, was still missing. He knew he could be a physician and heal people, but he hadn't thought about what being a healer meant.

Lennard's words, "That is why we are here, to help people," ignited something in Harlow. It wasn't just about being a physician. It wasn't about a job or what he would do with his life. It was a sense of duty, a new way of thinking.

He was here to help people. Helping them meant healing them, of course. But it also encompassed so much more. It meant protecting people, serving people, and caring for people. It was a way of life, a calling. It was the purpose he had been searching for.

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These were the words he needed to hear, to tell himself, to guide him. He would be a healer, a physician. He would also be more. He would be a protector, a servant, and a caregiver. He would be there for people when they needed him most. He would make a difference in the world.

Harlow's outlook changed, and Lennard could sense it. Something had happened in that instant, and Harlow had become better for it. It was as if the glow of his psychic avatar brightened, or his presence grew stronger. Lennard couldn't exactly tell, but he was pleased for his lover and excited to see the change happen.

"Okay, Lennard, I understand," Harlow told him. Their projections looked at each other, but their avatars' expressions weren't yet capable of change. It didn't matter, though, because the love and trust between them flowed through their bond. They could feel it as if staring into each other's eyes.

"Think of the things we need to do," Harlow told Lennard. "Plan out the steps if you can. Try to think of all the possibilities, anything you think I should know in order to help you save her hand."

Lennard did as he was told, focusing on all the relevant information. He visualized the surgery in his mind, and explored different outcomes and circumstances. He remembered the names of the anatomy and tools they would need. He held all this information in his mind's eye like a ball of energy.

Harlow could see the concentration Lennard was placing into this, and waited until he mentally gave a small nod. Harlow then extended his consciousness into Lennard.

Unlike the last time, Harlow didn't enter Lennard's body inside his memories. Instead, he touched the memories and they flowed into Harlow's mind like water.

Harlow was extremely thankful that he wasn't transported to some alternate plane or different mindscape where he had to talk to a magical demon or avatar of hate. Whatever it was that had happened last time, it had been terrifying.

The information rushed into Harlow's brain and saturated it. He instantly knew what the layers of the skin were called. The bones which made up the hand were ingrained into his mind. The damaged tissues became a visual representation and the procedure played out in front of his mind's eye.

Harlow withdrew his consciousness from the direct contact to Lennard’s consciousness and staggered a moment as the overwhelming amount of information settled in. He felt like he had just learned several book’s worth of knowledge in a single moment.

Lennard barely noticed the touch, but as Harlow withdrew, he felt the transfer had been successful. He still retained his own knowledge, but felt like a copy of it had been taken.

"Whoa," Harlow spoke after a moment. "That was intense."

"It worked though, right?" Lennard asked, already knowing the answer.

Harlow mentally nodded. He now also knew why Lennard was stressing about this girl's hand. She was their server from earlier in the day and made her living with her hands. There was also an attraction Lennard felt toward her, but not in a way that he would act on. It was more of a "if only things had worked out differently" kind of feeling.

Harlow could understand Lennard's attraction to her. She was very pretty. He would have been attracted to her as well, only days ago. She was older than Harlow, but would still be considered young as a partner for Lennard. Still, the age difference between her and Lennard would be more accepted than the one between him and Lennard.

"Do you think you are ready then, Harlow?" Lennard asked, a trace of urgency and speculation in his voice.

"Yes, but there's something else I would like to try first," Harlow replied. "You think she was injured by someone else." He said matter-of-factly.

Lennard was a little surprised that Harlow knew this. It wasn't something he had actively thought about when creating the information package. "Yes, I do. Did you learn that from me?"

“Yes, love,” Harlow told him sweetly. He didn’t want Lennard to feel as though he had been violated in some way. He could sense Lennard’s curiosity and confusion.

“It was something you subconsciously added,” Harlow told him. Which was mostly true. During the transfer, everything Lennard had thought about Marney was caught up in the wave of information. When Harlow realized these temporary thoughts were accessible with the rest of the knowledge Lennard had gathered, he also felt how easy it would be to access them. So he brought them to his own mind along with the rest of the information.

“There is one other thing I would like to do before we return to our bodies, though,” Harlow said. “But I need your opinion.”

A sense of curiosity extended from Lennard. If his avatar would gesticulate, the eyebrows would have raised inquisitively.

“I think I can go into Marney’s mind and see what or who caused this injury,” Harlow told Lennard. “But should I?”

It took Lennard a moment to process what Harlow was talking about. "You mean you think you can read her thoughts? But How? Wouldn't you at least need to use your tail?"

Harlow thought for a moment, trying to find the right way to explain. "Your hands are touching her, you are in contact with her, that is why we can sense her here," Harlow said, directing their attention to the third presence within their psychic mindscape.

"I think we can sense her here because you're touching her. It's obviously not the same as touching tails, or she would be more visible. Maybe even having the same rudimentary avatar as we do now."

"But I think it's enough so that I can pass through you and use your touch to reach her mind and skim her thoughts," Harlow explained. "It would only be the thoughts at the very surface of her mind though. Since she is asleep, I think it would be more like seeing what she was dreaming about."

Lennard contemplated this for a moment. "You wouldn't necessarily be able to see what happened though, only what her unconscious mind is thinking about right now?"

"Yes," Harlow answered. "She may be thinking about her job, a certain young man, or what she had for dinner last night. There's no way of knowing. But since she is here with this injury, I would guess she's thinking about what happened."

Harlow paused, then in a subdued tone asked, "Would an intrusion like that actually be helping her though, or am I just too eager to try out something new?"

The last question stunned Lennard and he had to think harder about the answer than he would have thought. It was a loaded question. He had a tendency for doing whatever was necessary to help someone no matter the consequences, but this felt different.

Several moments passed while he contemplated, Lennard finally responded by saying, "There's no easy answer to that, is there? It would definitely be a violation, but she wouldn't know. It could make her life easier, or even save it, but it could all be for nothing as well."

"I know," Harlow said. "That's why I wanted your opinion. I don't want to do anything that could hurt her and I hoped you would have a better answer.”

They both considered the possibilities and ramifications for a while. Neither wanted to answer one way or the other.

Lennard finally ended the mental battle they faced by saying, "Do it."

The answer took Harlow by surprise. "Really?"

"Yes," Lennard said. "There are three reasons why I think you should do it. One: you may be saving her life. We don't know for sure, but it's a good possibility. Two: you don't really know if you can do it or not. Something like that could be an important tool in the future. You should test it now, rather than on someone who may be in trauma and circumstances that are less ideal.

"Three," Lennard concluded, "we need to return and save her hand. Time might not be moving much while we're here, but we're not getting anything accomplished either."

Lennard was right, and Harlow agreed with his analysis. "Okay, Lennard, I think you're right. You know, we make a pretty good team. We should consider making this formal." Harlow jibed.

Lennard mentally chuckled and told Harlow to get on with it.

It was difficult to "push" through Lennard's consciousness, but necessary to establish a proper connection with Marney. Being the first time he had done this, as well as only recently learning he had these abilities, made what he was doing even more crazy.

Something instinctive guided him. This was definitely not something he would have even considered possible yesterday. But now here he was, mentally moving through Lennard's consciousness. He was going to use the slight physical connection Lennard had with his patient to make a psychic connection with her at a distance.

The hardest part was where Lennard's fingers encountered Marney's flesh. It wasn't a strong touch, and the area he touched was severely injured. Nerves and tissues were missing. The very structure of her hand was incomplete.

Harlow felt that he was not completely reliant on physical touch, though. He mentally pushed, but couldn't seem to break through. He could feel her presence physically close, but her mind stayed just out of reach. He withdrew for a moment to re-evaluate. His consciousness was still touching Lennard's. Their souls existed side by side within the same space.

"What is space here?" Harlow began to think. "Time slows and virtually stops. The way we perceive this mindscape is a projection of the way we perceive things physically." A new thought entered his mind, a new way of perceiving where, when, and who he was as well as those around him was developing.

He and Lennard were physically and spiritually bonded, as evidenced by the thick glimmering chord running between them. When he and Lennard were physically connected with Niko, Neko was there with them psychically as well, even though there was no physical contact. The connection passed through Niko, then used the immense bond between the twins to connect them all to Neko, who was tethered to his brother.

"So physical touch isn't a strict requirement," Harlow reaffirmed his initial hypothesis.

Harlow remembered feeling Lennard's attraction to Marney. At the time, he saw it as a feeling from Lennard like, "If only things had worked out differently." Harlow simply needed to change the way things had worked out and create a bond between Lennard and Marney.

Harlow was still held within Lennard's avatar, his consciousness or soul even. This is what allowed him to be able to create a false bond. It couldn't be between him and Marney because they weren't physically touching, it had to be between Marney and Lennard.

He began by visualizing Marney, then with great difficulty changed the visualization to include Lennard with her. He saw them holding hands, talking to each other, sharing a meal, returning to their home, and playing with their children.

Harlow mentally built a fantasy life for Lennard and Marney. Each scene that passed through his mind's eye brought with it a deep longing and pain, but he pushed on. The false link he was attempting to create between them was starting to emerge.

He saw them kiss as they departed from each other and then again when they reunited. He saw her assist Lennard at the clinic. He mentally envisioned Lennard playfully swatting her behind because she had whispered something naughty into his ear. Finally, he saw them in bed, their bodies moving in rhythm as they made love.

Finally, the connection to Marney's consciousness fully blinked into existence.

A thin glowing thread appeared in Harlow's vision, stretching from Lennard to Marney. He quickly followed the thread, his previous thoughts held loosely in his brain to keep the thread active. The two of them living their lives alongside each other felt to Harlow like a painful dream.

Luckily it took almost no time to move his consciousness over to her. He allowed his mind to briefly touch hers and gather the loose thoughts floating in her subconscious. He withdrew immediately after.

He refocused himself. He desperately wanted all thoughts of the life he had built for Lennard and Marney to be eliminated. A slight resentment for her welled up in him uncontrollably.

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“You were right Lennard, this was not an accident,” Harlow mentally spoke once he had recovered from the psychic break-in. “I couldn’t see much, nothing as to why the person did this to her. The images were fuzzy, but one thing was very clear. The people who did this to her had bleached white hair with black hats and coats.”

The words took a moment to sink in. The Ailuropoda were the spiritual guides for a lot of people, but it wasn’t uncommon for them to mete out punishment. This type of punishment was extreme and went far beyond anything this young lady could have deserved.

“That makes no sense,” Lennard replied. He remembered seeing the four at the table while eating lunch earlier today. He also recalled several other times he had noticed a group of sect members together. He never paid much attention to them, but it did seem like there were a lot more of them lately than there had been in the past.

“I’ve always disliked those guys,” Lennard declared. He couldn’t be sure, but he wondered if they were congregating here for some reason. If that were the case, then it could have been members from outside the city.

“Do we tell someone?” Harlow asked.

Lennard pondered the options for a while. "It's not our place to tell her secrets," he said. "We are physicians, we have to keep the trust of the people who come to us. If we break that trust, then the people won't have anywhere to go."

"You have been my apprentice for over two years now and have become privy to some things about the people of this place," Lennard told him in response. "The secrets I keep are numerous, and if I were to divulge them, not only would I lose my clients, but the faith of the people."

Harlow mentally nodded. He understood what Lennard was talking about. There had been times he was sent to fetch something but had returned too quickly and had overheard details about people's lives that he knew he wasn't supposed to know. He was good at keeping secrets, and really had no one in his life to tell if he wanted to.

"This is her secret and if we come out as somehow knowing what happened, a lot of people would have questions about how we gathered that information," Lennard said. "I think we need to get her to tell someone, preferably one of us, maybe her mother. Make her feel comfortable enough to talk, then we can take further action. Pointing a finger at the Ailuropoda can be a very dangerous thing to do."

Harlow agreed with Lennard. It was important to be careful about how they handled this situation. They didn't want to make things worse for the young lady. They also didn't want to put themselves in danger by accusing the Ailuropoda without proof.

Harlow had very few interactions with the black and white sect members, so he was reliant on Lennard's experience to take the lead when it came to the Ailuropoda. He agreed with his partner's assessment, though.

They now had a better idea of what happened, as well as a strategy as to how to go about fixing Marney's hand. The plan was set and the information was shared, so with a mutual acknowledgment of readiness, Harlow released control of the mindscape and the space they occupied began to dissolve.

After only a few seconds had passed in the physical world, Lennard and Harlow were back inside their bodies. The transition from the mindscape brought some disorientation, and it took them another few seconds to reorient themselves to their physical bodies.

Their tails remained locked throughout the process. Now, without prompting, Harlow moved closer and placed his hands on Marney's fingers. He flexed them slowly outward so Lennard could see the injured area better. Without the need for words, they moved in unison. Harlow flushed the area with water as Lennard used his claws to remove the dead flesh.

Lennard was careful not to damage the healthy tissue, and Harlow was careful to flush away any debris that Lennard might have missed. They worked together seamlessly, their bond allowing them to communicate without words.

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After they had worked for over an hour on Marney’s hand, Lennard placed the last stitch and Harlow clipped the thread without needing to be told. They both reached for different salves and layered them on top of the exposed wound.

Harlow applied a layer of Alue overtop the layer of Spirichina and Elena root that Lennard applied below. The combination was unusual, but it would help heal the burn while at the same time promoting the skin to bond together. Knowing what came next for this type of severe burn, Harlow reluctantly removed his tail from Lennard's, but smiled at his partner as they both knew where he was going without having to be told.

He walked into the recovery room and plucked a large leaf from the Priatiti tree. The leaf would go overtop the open wound to help lock in the ointment as well as keep the wound from infecting. He returned to find Lennard awaiting him with the bandages ready to wrap overtop the leaf.

Once they finished bandaging the leaf in place, the two of them moved the still sleeping Marney to the bed in the recovery room. Then, they set about cleaning the exam room.

They had spent so much time together, both doing these same menial tasks of cleaning, but also with their tails connected, that they needed few words. They knew what to do and how to do their job without having to be told.

The silence between them wasn't awkward. It offered them a sense of unity and purpose. They worked together as though they had done these same tasks together for decades.

Once they were finished cleaning, Lennard placed his hand around Harlow's hip and pulled him in for a side hug. "We really do make a good team," he said, smiling down at Harlow.

After finishing in the exam room, they moved on to the laboratory to continue restocking the supplies that Lennard had been working on earlier. This process was more tedious. At first, Harlow was excited to learn the procedures involved, but he quickly became overwhelmed by the complexity of the recipes. He found himself struggling to follow the instructions, and he began to feel mentally drained.

He considered asking Lennard if he wanted to share the information with him mentally as they had just done to treat Marney's wound, but he decided against it. He didn't want to ask Lennard for help if he wasn't up to the task, and he also didn't want to put a strain on Lennard's mental state.

Before dusk set in, the door chime rang once again. An older lady entered. It was Marney's mother, who had grown concerned when her daughter hadn't returned home. Lennard greeted her as she came in, and Harlow gathered chairs for them to sit on.

"Mrs. Thash," Lennard said. "Marney came in today with a very serious burn on her hand. We were able to treat it, but there will most definitely be some scarring and probable nerve damage." Lennard went on to explain the circumstances of the wound, carefully adding his suspicions of foul play.

“That’s preposterous,” Mrs. Thash said indignantly. “My Marney is an innocent girl who goes to church every week. She wouldn’t let some dirty man do something like this to her.” She harrumphed and would hear no more.

Lennard picked up on the mood of the mother and backed off the subject, especially since this family were Ailuropoda church attendees. He finished up by asking if she would be okay with Marney staying the night for observation.

“If you think that’s necessary, then I suppose it’s okay,” she huffed but didn’t move.

This wasn’t what Lennard was hoping for. He wanted to be able to talk to Marney alone. To see if he could get her to talk more about what really happened. With her mother hovering over her, he knew Marney’s story wouldn’t change. Without throwing the mother out, there wasn’t much he could do.

Nightfall came, and Lennard asked Mrs. Millina Thash if she wanted to go home and rest, assuring her he would be close at hand if her daughter woke up. It seemed as though she wanted to stay the night with her daughter, but after seeing the small couch they had to offer for her to sleep on, she finally agreed to leave.

There was actually a larger and more comfortable couch in the waiting room which Lennard more often offered for people to sleep on. However, he was glad that Mrs. Thash hadn't noticed, as it meant that Lennard and Harlow would be able to talk to Marney alone when she woke up.

Later on, Marney began tossing and groaning in pain. The anesthetic Lennard had dosed her with before the surgery was wearing off. He considered allowing her to wake now and make his attempt to garner the information he was looking for, but decided against it.

Lennard wanted the girl to be comfortable and sleep through the night, so he mixed up a sleeping draught with some Wanetta to ease the pain and had Marney drink it before she fully woke up. It would keep her asleep until morning and by then, hopefully, she would be more functional and ready to discuss what had happened.

Marney's body needed the rest. Sleep would help the healing process and keep the wound from being moved around a lot. There wasn't too much to worry about now. Her heartbeat and breathing were steady and the wound was draining clear. So Lennard decided it would be safe for him and Harlow to retire as well.