Something had happened when Sienna touched her. She wasn't imagining it. Sienna's breathing had changed, and her eyes had widened, and then she'd pulled away and retreated behind that professional calm so fast it was like watching a door close.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Sienna touched all her patients' chests to stop them from getting off treatment beds. Maybe that little catch in her breathing and how her eyes had widened was just standard medical procedure.
Elise didn't believe that for a second.
Sienna led her to an office at the end of the corridor and knocked once before opening the door. "Dr. Mars? Elise Moreno is here."
The office was warm and softly lit, a welcome change from the harsh fluorescence of the corridors. Medical journals were stacked neatly on the desk beside a small framed photo and a mug that said WORLD'S OKAYEST DOCTOR. The woman behind the desk stood as they entered, and Elise's first thought was that she was tiny. Dr. Josephine Mars was petite and feminine, with sandy hair pinned back from a face that was lined with age but bright with energy. She was in her early sixties, and there was a commanding presence to her that had nothing to do with her size and everything to do with how she held herself: straight-backed, sharp-eyed, completely assured.
"Elise." Josephine came around the desk with quick, decisive steps and took Elise's good hand in both of hers. Her grip wassurprisingly firm for someone so small. Up close, the laugh lines around her eyes were visible, and reading glasses hung on a chain around her neck. She radiated competence and care in equal measure. "I'm so sorry about what happened tonight. I was watching the game in my office and that hit was absolutely disgraceful. The officials should have acted sooner."
Elise blinked. "You were watching?"
"I'm a hockey fan. Have been for thirty years. Season ticket holder since the Valkyries played in the old rink." She squeezed Elise's hand before releasing it and gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk. "Please, sit down. Both of you. Let's see what's going on with this shoulder."
Elise sank into the chair, and the tightness in her chest loosened. There was a quality to Josephine Mars that made you feel like everything was going to be handled. Like you'd walked into the office of someone who knew exactly what they were doing and cared about doing it well. The mug helped. The photo, Elise noticed, was of a cat sitting in a surgical cap and there was another photo of Josephine smiling with another woman and a red haired smiling girl of about twelve years old.
Sienna sat in the chair beside her, close enough that their knees were almost touching. Josephine settled behind her desk and pulled up the MRI images on the large monitor mounted to the wall.
"Right. Let's have a look." Josephine tilted the screen so they could all see.
Sienna stood up immediately, drawn to the images. She moved beside Josephine, and the two of them leaned in, studying the cross-sections of Elise's shoulder. Sienna pointed at the screen and Josephine nodded, murmuring about "anterior-inferior" and "SLAP" and other terms she half-followed from years of being around sports medicine but couldn't fully parse. They talked between themselves for a minute, voices low andtechnical, and Elise sat in her chair and watched them and tried to read their faces.
Josephine's expression was neutral. Professional. Sienna's was harder to read, her eyes narrowed behind her glasses, her hand hovering near the screen as she traced the outline of a shape Elise couldn't see properly.
Then they turned to face her. Josephine was the one who spoke first.
"The good news is that this isn't a complete tear. Your labrum is partially torn, here." She pointed to the screen, circling an area on the image with her finger. "There's some joint instability as a result, which is what's causing the laxity Dr. Park identified during her examination. But the bone is intact and the rotator cuff is largely unaffected."
"And the bad news?" Elise's voice was steady. She gripped the arm of the chair with her good hand.
Josephine exchanged a glance with Sienna. Sienna gave a small nod.
"The bad news is that this needs time," Josephine said, her voice gentle but direct. "A partial labral tear with instability requires a structured rehab programme. We're looking at a minimum of six weeks before you can return to contact sport, and that's an optimistic timeline. It could be eight to ten weeks depending on how the healing progresses."
Six weeks. At minimum.
The number hit like a stone dropping into water. Six weeks. Forty-two days. Maybe more. She did the maths without wanting to. Six weeks was ten games, minimum. Ten games where Lex would play centre in her place, ten games of statistics and highlight reels building the case for a permanent change. Ten games for Mara to get used to a lineup that didn't include Elise Moreno.
Her chest tightened. Six weeks was ten games where Lex would prove what the stats already suggested. And somewhere in those ten games, Elise's place in the starting lineup would stop being a given and become a question.
"I know this isn't what you wanted to hear," Josephine said. She leaned forward, her elbows on the desk, and her eyes were kind and direct. "But the tissue quality looks good. There's no evidence of chronic degeneration. This is a clean, acute injury from a specific trauma, and those heal. If you follow the rehab protocol and don't rush it, there's every reason to believe you'll make a full recovery. You're young, you're fit, and you have an excellent team physician looking after you." She nodded toward Sienna. "Dr. Park will take good care of you."
"We'll start the rehabilitation programme as soon as the acute inflammation settles," Sienna added. Her voice was professional, but Elise caught how she leaned forward slightly, as if she wanted to reach across the space between them. "Daily sessions. We'll get you back."
Elise nodded. She didn't trust herself to speak. Her throat was tight and her eyes were stinging and she was not going to cry in this office in front of a woman she'd met five minutes ago, no matter how kind that woman was.
"Thank you," she managed. "Both of you."
Josephine smiled. "Go home. Rest. Ice the shoulder. And call my office if anything changes overnight." She looked at Sienna. "I trust you'll make sure she actually rests?"
"I'll do my best," Sienna said, and the two doctors exchanged a look that was conspiratorial and faintly amused.
The drive home was quiet. Sienna's car was a small, clean hatchback that smelled of fabric freshener and the faint lingering trace of her perfume. She drove carefully, both hands on the wheel, taking the corners slow, and Elise appreciated thecare without saying so. Every bump in the road sent a small jolt through her shoulder that made her teeth clench.
She leaned her head against the passenger window and watched Phoenix Ridge scroll past in the dark. The city was beautiful at night, all streetlights and quiet streets. They passed Lavender's cafe-bar, its windows glowing, and the park where the Saturday markets set up, empty now. The streets were mostly deserted. It was late and Elise was exhausted and her shoulder hurt and she felt hollowed out.
They talked, but it was gentle. The surface of things.