As the time for the treatment approached, Mr. Carter made a sweeping motion with his hand, unfurling a cloth roll that revealed rows of neatly arranged needles of varying sizes.
Roseanne watched, her skin crawling. "Are we, uh, starting now?"
"Yes," Mr. Carter replied.
"Where do they go?" she asked nervously.
He pointed to her head. "Right here."
Roseanne was puzzled. "Why the head if my ankle''s hurt?"
Her curiosity was genuine, not skeptical.
"The reason the injury hurts is because of blocked energy," Mr. Carter exined. "There are key points in the head that help release it. Think of it like fixing the main control system to solve the problem."
And the brain, of course, was that central system.
"Ready? Let''s begin," Mr. Carter said, rolling up his sleeves and reaching for a needle.
Roseanne, feeling apprehensive, instinctively searched for something to hold onto. Just then, Owen Reynolds offered his hand to her, and she clutched it without hesitation.
"Rx, don''t worry, it''ll be over quickly," Mr. Carter''s voice was gentle and soothing, almost magical in its ability to calm.
Roseanne closed her eyes.
As she braced for the pain, she felt a tiny prick on her scalp, like the bite of an ant. The difort was fleeting, and then it was gone.
"Okay, the first needle is in," Mr. Carter announced.
She started to open her eyes, but he gently stopped her. "Not yet. There are a few more to go, and you must remain still."
Taking his advice, she stayed motionless, resisting the odd sensation that came with the needles.
With her eyes shut, her other senses heightened. She tightened her grip on Owen''s warm hand, findingfort in it. Then, Mr. Carter''s kind voice reached her ears, "Rx, don''t be tense. See? It wasn''t as scary as you imagined, right?"
His soothing words helped ease her tension, and soon Roseanne found herself rxing.
"You can''t move around too much yet, but you can slowly open your eyes now," Mr. Carter said softly.
Roseanne fluttered her eyelids open. The room came back into focus, and directly in front of her was a mirror She caught sight of her reflection, with the needles sticking out of her head like a porcupine. It was a little rming, but also somew amusing.
Mr. Carter had advised her to stay still, so she kept her back suspended in the air. Holding one position for so long was tiring.
Noticing this, Mr. Carter nced at a small couch in the corner meant for patientfort. He gestured to Owen, "Help her over there, let her lean against the wall for support."
Owen looked down at Roseanne''s hand, pale and delicate, her nails a healthy shade of pink. She probably didn''t even realize she was still gripping his hand tightly, a sign of her nerves.
Sweaty palms pressed together, Owen didn''t pull away. Instead, he allowed his hand to be a steady anchor for her as he assisted Roseanne in rising and moving to the therapy couch.
Mr. Carter kept a close eye on the needles, given their critical cement at key points. Precision was paramount.
If Roseanne was anxious, Owen seemed even more so. The short distance felt like a long journey.
Once he had helped her settle, both of them exhaled in relief.
Mr. Carter chuckled at the sight and continued to instruct Owen, "We''re not done yet, Owen. Help the youngdy take off her shoes, lift her foot gently, and ce her leg on the support."
Owen crouched down, gently cradling Roseanne''s heel as he carefully removed
her ankle boot...