Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start novel Chapter 54

Maybe it was because of Jordan Smith and Nora Lewis, but Lillian was just in a funk all morning.

Camila Davis could tell her daughter was down, and it broke her heart. She held Lillian close and comforted her for a long while before Lillian finally perked up.

Just after lunch, Camila’s phone rang. It was Dr. Walter Wilson from the hospital. “Hey, Camila, any chance you can come in today? We’ve got a really important patient and I’d love for you to take a look.”

“No problem,” Camila replied without hesitation.

These days, work was her lifeline—especially with a divorce on the horizon. She needed to save up for herself and for Lillian.

She left Lillian in the care of the nanny and headed out.

At the hospital, Camila had just slipped into her white coat when Dr. Wilson showed up, personally escorting the patient.

An elderly gentleman sat in a wheelchair—a Mr. Harris. He looked to be around seventy, with sharp, dignified features, a straight-backed posture, and an air of authority that was hard to miss. Behind him stood a middle-aged couple, clearly his family.

Dr. Wilson did the introductions. “This is Mr. Harris. He served in the army years ago, took a bad injury—his right leg’s paralyzed, and his left is plagued by chronic arthritis pain. He’s seen a lot of doctors, tried a lot of treatments, but lately, with the cold and all this rain, the pain’s gotten unbearable.”

Camila nodded, understanding. No wonder Mr. Harris had such an intense, commanding presence—he must have been someone important in the military.

She wasted no time, kneeling beside him to examine his left leg.

Within moments, she confirmed Dr. Wilson’s diagnosis: severe arthritis.

She fetched a set of acupuncture needles—her specialty from med school, something called the “Aetherflow Needlecraft”—and, before starting, smiled gently at Mr. Harris. “This might be a little uncomfortable. You’ll need to tough it out for me, okay?”

Mr. Harris just grinned. “You go right ahead, doc. I can handle a little pain.”

Camila believed him. A guy like this had probably been through far worse.

With practiced hands, she placed the needles in seemingly odd, but precise, spots along his leg. After about fifteen minutes, she removed them and massaged a homemade herbal oil into his knee.

A couple of minutes later, she asked, “How’s your leg feel now?”

Mr. Harris looked surprised—a good surprise. The pain and stiffness in his face relaxed, and he straightened up a little. “Well, I’ll be damned. The ache, the cold, the stabbing pain—most of it’s gone. I haven’t felt this good in years!”

Camila smiled, not surprised. She knew her technique was effective, especially with her own blend of pain-relieving oils.

Dr. Wilson frowned, still worried, but he relented. “Just don’t push if they say no, alright?”

“I get it,” Camila assured him.

When they returned, Mr. Harris gave them a tired smile. “No need to whisper, doc. I know my situation. Don’t worry about sparing my feelings. I’ve lived with this for a long time.”

He paused, voice heavy. “It happened during a mission, years ago—a bullet wound. My buddy saved my life, but I got hit in the leg. Two bullets, right to the nerves. Been paralyzed ever since. I’ve seen plenty of doctors, but it’s risky, and no hospital wanted to touch it.”

He looked suddenly older, the weight of his memories pressing down.

“Dad…” his daughter murmured, her voice trembling.

Camila’s respect for him grew. She met his eyes. “Mr. Harris, I believe I can help you.”

The room went silent. The three family members stared at her as if she’d just said she could perform a miracle.

After a few stunned seconds, Mr. Harris was the first to speak. “You… you really mean that?”