Chapter 46
Noah
With a push of my foot, I swing open the entrance door and carry Elina inside the house. For months, I've avoided this doctor's office. Not just because of Helene's accusatory glances but also because I always saw Julian's face in hers.
But today, neither of those things can affect me. Not after Elina and I have talked the entire way here. We've told each other everything, and nothing stands between us. Not even the question of where we could live.
"I can treat my ankle myself," protests the drenched Elina not for the first time since I carried her out of the gorge. At least she allowed me to provide initial care for her head wound.
With an amused shake of my head, I approach the reception desk.
Clara looks up from her paperwork. "Oh. My. God."
Immediately, Elina squirms in my arms. "Let me down. I can manage from here." Reluctantly, I set her down on the floor, and I immediately miss her closeness. "But I'll put the bandage on you." My objection doesn't reach her. Balancing on her uninjured foot, she leans on the counter. "I need diclofenac ointment, a compression bandage, and a splint," she says to Clara, who quickly jumps up from her chair.
"And a pair of crutches. Coming right up." With a single frantic motion, Clara turns around. Her braids swing down to her cheeks.
Not even a minute later, she returns with the crutches. Leaning on the walking aid, Elina limps down the corridor toward the treatment rooms. For a moment, I watch her, shaking my head.
She's such a fighter.
My fighter.
Suddenly, someone gently nudges me from the side. "Have fun with the stubborn one." Clara hands me bandages, ointment, and towels with a grin.
I follow Elina and easily catch up to her before she reaches the treatment room.
Gallantly, I open the door for her. "Please, madame, take a seat on the examination table. I will attend to you immediately."
"Absolutely not." A wonderfully mischievous smile plays on her lips as she hobbles past me into the room. Then she abruptly stops in her movement.
"Helene," she says, startled. "I didn't mean to... I'm sorry..."
I whirl around and spot the mother of my best friend sitting at the desk in front of the bookshelf wall. "Hello, Helene."
She nods at me. "Noah." Did she just lift the corners of her mouth? Even if only for a fraction of a second?
I scrutinize her for a moment, but her face remains closed off. "Elina needs help," I say quickly because that's what matters most now.
"No, no," she protests immediately. "For the last time. I can bandage it myself. It's just a sprained ankle." If she weren't leaning on the crutches, she wouldprobably be waving her hands in the air in exasperation. "And right after that, we'll be gone again. I promise," she adds, addressing Helene.
That's strange. Elina and Helene always got along well. Or did they not? Are the women so tense because I'm here?
Probably.
After all, Helene was one of those who vehemently advocated the theory that I was to blame for Julian's death.
She hates me.
Nevertheless, I have to tell her. She needs to know what actually happened so that her resentment can disappear, and she can also let go of the past.
While Elina starts treating herself, I boldly approach Helene. "Can we talk?" I ask her firmly.
Instantly, her eyes well up with tears. Her fingers entwine with each other, and she seems unable to sit still in her chair. "I have to—"
"My memory has returned." I interrupt her. "Everything just came back."
She raises her eyebrows. Her mouth moves, but not a single word comes out. For a moment, the only sound is Elina's busy activity.
