“Mom, don't worry. I’ll hold this family up.”
Amanda shook her head and walked out.
“Are you sick in the head, girl? What are you trying to prove?” Dylan asked impatiently.
He couldn't believe a woman would exist who didn't find him repulsively burdensome.
“The sick one is you. And I’m going to treat you.”
Elena reached out and checked his pulse.
“You know medicine?”
“Yes. How else would I save you?”
After checking his pulse, she palpated his bones to get a preliminary assessment.
“Your legs and feet were broken intentionally. Comminuted fractures. They were never treated properly. Don't worry, I’ll fix them.”
Dylan let out a cynical laugh.
He had been paralyzed for three years.
“You think you’re some kind of miracle worker?” he sneered.
“Yes.” Elena replied calmly.
She was the sole successor of the Hartline Clinic. Her simple affirmation meant little to Dylan, who didn't believe anyone could make him stand again.
“Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to get you an X-ray and blood work. I need a detailed look.” Elena glanced at him.
She still didn't understand her connection to this man, or why her Master was so adamant she save him.
Outside, her brothers had returned. They heard Elena had brought a man home.
“Mom, I heard in the village that our little sister likes the disabled guy. If she likes him, we keep him. I’ll make the money to support him!” Ben, the eldest brother, announced.
Elena, listening from the room, rolled her eyes. When did she say she *liked* him?
“Mom, Ben’s right. One more mouth to feed won't kill us. He is her fiancé, after all,” Chris, the second brother, added.

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