Mercer nodded.
“The metal has likely caused repeated infection for years.”
Rosalie wrote:
Can you remove it?
Mercer hesitated.
“Possibly.”
Gideon watched his lips.
“Danger?”
His spoken word was rough.
Mercer looked surprised, then nodded.
“Yes.”
He explained carefully.
The operation could worsen Gideon’s balance.
It could cause hemorrhage.
It could accomplish nothing.
And even if the fragment came out cleanly, there was almost no chance of restoring normal hearing after twenty-nine years.
Rosalie translated everything.
Gideon read.
Then sat quietly.
Rosalie touched his hand.
He looked at her.
She wrote:
You don’t have to.
He took the pencil.
I want it out.
She looked at him.
Why?
He stared at the page for a long time.
Then wrote:
I have carried Ashford long enough.
Rosalie’s eyes filled.
She squeezed his hand.
The operation happened four days later in a small hospital in Helena.
Rosalie waited six hours.
Those six
