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Summary
As Lucian was supporting Emmett down the steps of yet another charlatan’s practice, the nurse ran out after them.
“There’s nothing the doctor can do for him,” she said, throwing a furtive glance towards the doctor’s front door.
“He made that clear, thank you,” Lucian snapped. The pity in her eyes grated like nails on chalkboard.
“No, you don’t understand: no doctor can,” she insisted. “Don’t you see? This is not an illness of the body.”
“Pardon?” he asked by reflex, even though deep down he already knew what she was going to say. Of course.
Of course, he should have known.
“It’s a binder he needs.”