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“Good.” The doctor wrote something on the chart she held. “Do you know your name?”

“Rebecca.”

Another note with a nod of the head. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

“Beaten.” Rebecca wished she could give more than one-word answers, but it hurt to speak. She had watched enough medical dramas to know the questions were important, especially with head injuries. Unfortunately, in real life, the pain was overwhelming.

Compassion filled the doctor’s eyes. “A cop came in with you. Does that mean the bastard was caught?”

Rebecca closed her eye. “She’s dead.”

She missed the shocked look directed at her. “Good.”

One silver eye popped open. “You’re a doctor.”

Dr. Vale held Rebecca’s gaze unapologetically. “And, I have a patient with broken bones, bruises, and who just spent hours in surgery. Anyone who can do that to another human being deserves what they get.”

“Hours? What…?”

“There was some internal bleeding. We had to go in and remove a couple of things. But, we’ll talk more about that when you’re a little more lucid.”

When Rebecca reached up in an attempt to touch her face and access the damage, Dr. Vale stopped her with a gentle touch.

“Try not to move around too much or disturb the bandages.”

“Will I?” Will I be scarred for life? Will my face be maimed? Is this what I deserve?

“The scars on your face will fade,” Dr. Vale answered, correctly guessing Rebecca’s concerns. “I’m that good,” she smiled kindly. Her smile faded, and she looked at Rebecca seriously. “If you would like to talk about the scars on your back at a later date, we can.”

Rebecca nodded slightly.

“Is there someone I can call for you?”

Rebecca scoffed. How the hell was she going to explain this to her aunt? “Would you want anyone you loved to see you like this?” She sighed tiredly. God, pain really took a lot out of you.

“I would want to be surrounded by people who loved me,” the doctor answered with a gentleness Rebecca wasn’t used to these days.

“My fault. I stayed.” Even though her voice was merely a rasp of a whisper, the defeat was clear.

The tall doctor gingerly sat on the edge of Rebecca’s bed and took her hand. “Rebecca, abuse like this is never the victim’s fault. Whether you stayed or not, you are not to blame. However, if you’d rather, I could call someone to evaluate your emotional state.”

“A shrink?”

“A psychiatrist, yes.”

Rebecca smiled for the first time. “My aunt. Built-in shrink.”

Dr. Vale chuckled. “Is she your emergency contact?” Rebecca nodded. The doctor reached over to grab the call cord. “I’ll have Patty give her a call. She’s the head nurse around here and runs a tight ship. If you need anything at all, just press this button and she’ll be here. I’ll be back during my rounds to check up on you.”

“Thank you, Dr. Vale.”

“REBECCA, ARE YOU sure you’re ready?” Dr. Willamena Woodrow paced around the hospital room. Her normally well-groomed chestnut hair was mussed, most likely due to being driven crazy by her head-strong niece.

Willamena was barely in her twenties when her older sister died, and Willamena was entrusted with the care of her young niece. Despite the closeness in age—just ten years—Willamena took Rebecca under her wing and raised her in a way she hoped her sister would be proud of. It wasn’t always easy, and right now was one of those times.

“I’m sure. Hunter has cleared me, Aunt Wills.” Rebecca continued to pack the things her aunt had brought her during her stay. She’d been cooped up in this place for almost two weeks and she was ready to get out. It wasn’t all bad, of course. She had gotten to know Dr. Hunter Vale better, as well as Nurse Patty and her wife Mo (also a nurse). But, if she didn’t get out of this room soon, she was going to go crazy. Though if she said those words to her aunt, she would get “the look.”

“Maybe I should talk to this Hunter person. Why haven’t I, by the way? Isn’t she your doctor?”