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The whole sorted affair was embarrassing. She tried staying, but Crispen only made things intolerable for her. When she came home after work one night and Ashley was sleeping in her bed with him, she lost her shit. A full-out fistfight with the police being called which landed her in jail for the night. By the time she’d gotten released and back to the apartment, the locks had been changed and her things were out in the hallway.

“Let me get this straight. You couldn’t throw him out, but he threw you out?”

“Basically. I did try to get rid of him. Every time I changed the locks, I’d come home, and he’d be back in the apartment. He and the apartment manager are buddies.”

“And you’re paying the rent, why?”

“The lease is in my name. I can’t afford for my credit to be ruined.”

Crazy bitch. Crazy bitch. Crazy bitch, his inner voice screamed at him. “I’m sorry you’re going through that.”

“Me too.”

She watched him take a seat on a rolling stool and move closer to her. He took out a penlight and asked her to follow the light with her eyes, which she did. Her life was in shambles. She couldn’t rent another apartment with already having one in her name. Could she?

“Ouch!” she snapped when Hemlock touched her face.

“Sorry,” Hemlock muttered, his fingers lingering on her jaw for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes were focused, professional, but Charlie could tell he was trying not to show his own discomfort. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the pain in her face or the way her life had seemed to collapse into a pile of unmanageable mess. She’d been a mess for months now. He couldn’t know that, though.

“Let’s try that again,” he said, lifting the penlight a little higher and asking her to follow it with her eyes once more.

She obeyed, her eyes tracking the little dot of light, trying to ignore the sense of disconnection that had begun to bleed into everything—into her thoughts, into the sensation of his hands on her face.Distraction. Focus, just focus.

Charlie felt a sharp pang in her chest, but this time it wasn’t just physical. It was the overwhelming weight of it all. The apartment situation was the latest disaster—her lease, her name still on it, her rent doubled because she couldn’t make the right call in time to find another place. Her credit wasn’t good enough for a fresh start anywhere. Every door felt like it was closing, locking her in this cramped, cold space.

She pulled her thoughts back to Hemlock, who was still moving the light slowly, checking her eye movement. He was one of the good ones, she knew. He wasn’t one of those cold, detached doctors who only saw her as another patient with an issue to fix. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of vulnerability—the way her life had become a series of “what ifs,” constantly wondering if she was ever going to find a way out.

“Alright, let’s check the other side,” he said, breaking her thoughts.

She flinched, involuntarily. Another sharp, hot flash of pain in her face as he touched it again, and she couldn’t help but snap, “Ouch!” The word a little harsher than she intended.

He gave her a sympathetic look but said nothing. Just moved to the other side of her face, a little more gently though. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears, the growing awareness she didn’t have the answers to anything. Not even to herself.

“Sorry,” she said again, quieter this time, but it felt like the apology wasn’t just for snapping at him. It was for everything. For the mess she was. For the things she couldn’t fix. For all the unknowns that loomed over her.

“Don’t apologize,” Hemlock replied with a quiet smile. “We’re here to figure out how badly you’re hurt.”

The door opened before Charlie could say anything else. She recognized the guy stepping into the room. He’d witnessed her humiliation when she tried to kill Hemlock.

“Durand, what do we have?” Razor looked at the girl and smiled. “Hello, cinnamon girl.”

Charlie sighed wanting to cry. She couldn’t catch a break.

“We’ve had a lot of fun at Hemlock’s expense since you kissed him.”

“Well, I’m glad I could humor you.”

Razor recognized someone in pain and went into professional mode. “Tell me what’s going on with the patient.”

“Miss Cote was punched in the face by another female. I think we should do an x-ray on her cheek. It might be fractured. She’s suffering with pain, swelling, skin discoloration, and a nosebleed.” Hemlock pointed to the balled up bloody tissue in Charlie’s hand.

Razor repeated the eye exam, touched her cheek, and witnessed Charlie’s intense reaction to the slightest touch. “I think you’re right. Let’s get an X-ray of the cheek and go from there.”

Charlie sat quietly as the two men discussed the X-ray of her cheek. Exhaustion had long since set in, leaving her with the desire to leave. It didn’t matter what they said. She couldn’t afford to go anywhere else for medical attention. She knew by Hemlock’s reaction to the X-ray that her cheek was indeed fractured. But she already knew that by the way her nose bled after being punched. It wasn’t her first rodeo with a facial fracture.

Rubbing a hand across her forehead, Charlie decided she was done. She stood and pulled her purse straps over her shoulder before thanking Hemlock and Razor. Her hand was barely on the doorknob when they both asked where she was going.

Charlie paused, fingers still hovering over the doorknob. She wasn’t sure how to explain. She hadn’t even fully processed the fact she’d been x-rayed for a fractured cheek. It wasn’t the first time, and with the situation unfolding in her life, it probably wouldn’t be the last. She turned, giving them both a half-smile, though it felt more like a grimace.