The request was straightforward. Medical. Elise had heard it a hundred times from a dozen different physios and doctors. She unzipped her training top and pulled it over her head one-armed, the movement still clumsy with the sling, and sat on the treatment bed in her sports bra.
Sienna stepped closer. Her fingers were warm as she began to palpate the shoulder joint, pressing along the joint line, testing the swelling. The bruise from the hit was still dark, adeep violet spreading across Elise's deltoid and down toward her bicep. Sienna's touch was gentle and assured, her fingers sure and practised.
"External rotation," Sienna murmured, guiding Elise's arm outward with both hands. One hand cradled her elbow, the other rested on her scapula, and each fingertip was distinct and warm through her skin.
Elise's breathing went shallow. The room was too bright and too quiet and Sienna was standing close enough that Elise could smell her perfume, clean and subtle. Her eyes tracked the movement of Elise's arm, focused behind her glasses, and her lips were slightly parted in concentration. A strand of dark hair had escaped her ponytail and was resting against her neck.
"Does that hurt?"
"A bit. Less than last night."
"Good." Sienna moved her arm through another range, and her fingers shifted on Elise's shoulder blade. The contact sent a current through Elise's skin that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with the fact that Sienna Park's hands were on her body and her body was paying very close attention.
Sienna tested forward flexion, abduction, the apprehension test. Her movements were slow and careful and entirely professional, and Elise sat still and breathed and tried not to think about the heat of Sienna's palms or how her forearm brushed against Elise's bare skin when she adjusted her grip. When Sienna moved her arm into the apprehension position, Elise tensed, the memory of pain sharp in her muscles, and Sienna's grip tightened instinctively, protective.
"Breathe," Sienna said. "I've got you."
Elise breathed. The tension in her shoulder released a fraction, not because the position was less scary but because Sienna's hands were steady and her voice was calm and Elise believed her.
"The laxity is improving," Sienna said, stepping back. She picked up her tablet and made notes, her eyes on the screen. Was there colour on her cheeks, or was that just the overhead light? Elise couldn't tell. "The swelling is down significantly. That's a good sign."
"So I'm not a lost cause."
Sienna's mouth curved. Not quite a smile, but close. "You were never a lost cause."
The words were quiet and professional and they made Elise's chest ache.
She pulled her training top back on and sat on the edge of the bed, watching Sienna input data on her tablet. The room was quiet except for the tapping of Sienna's fingers on the screen and the distant sounds of the facility beyond the door, music from the gym, voices in the corridor, the bang of a locker.
"I've got a gym slot in twenty minutes," Elise said. "With Kylie. Do you have time to come? I'd feel better if you were there for the first session. In case I do something stupid."
Sienna glanced at her watch. A small crease appeared between her eyebrows as she calculated. "I have a staff meeting at eleven. But I can spare forty minutes."
"You don't have to."
Sienna tucked the tablet under her arm and was already heading for the door. "I know. Let's go."
The gym was on the ground floor, a large open space with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the practice rink. The morning light flooded in, golden, and the room smelled of rubber mats and chalk and the faint sweetness of energy drinks. Kylie was already there, setting up a station near the squat rack.
Kylie Harris was compact and muscular, with cropped blonde hair and an energy that made everyone around her feel slightly tired. She had tattoos running up both arms and a smilethat was ninety percent enthusiasm and ten percent chaos. She was new and Elise liked her immediately.
"Moreno! Welcome to the Shoulder-Friendly Zone." Kylie gestured expansively at the equipment behind her. "Everything here is approved by your very thorough doctor. No overhead pressing, no push-ups, no pull-ups, nothing that makes your shoulder go 'hey, what the hell.' Clear?"
"Clear."
"Dr. Park." Kylie nodded at Sienna. "Good to have you here. I've programmed exactly what you sent me. Squats, Romanian deadlifts, split squats, glute work, core stability. Twenty-minute circuit, three rounds."
Sienna reviewed the programme on Kylie's clipboard, asking quiet questions about load progression and rest intervals. Elise watched them confer, two professionals absorbed in the details of her recovery, and a wave of gratitude moved through her that she didn't quite expect.
She started the circuit. Goblet squats first, holding a kettlebell against her chest with her right hand while the sling held her left arm still. The kettlebell was sixteen kilos, lighter than what she'd normally use, but Kylie had been firm about starting conservative. The weight felt good. Her legs were strong, the muscle memory of thousands of training sessions firing cleanly, and for the first time in four days she felt like an athlete instead of a patient.
Sienna stood near the squat rack, arms crossed, watching Elise's form. "Deeper. Get your hips below parallel."
"I'm going deep."
"Not deep enough."
Elise sank lower, her quads burning, and caught Sienna's eye on the way back up. Sienna gave a small, approving nod, and the tiny gesture made Elise work harder on the next rep than she had any right to.