At these words, Evelyn's body tensed of its own accord like a violently overstretched bowstring.

"Oh," was the only thing she managed to get out for the moment. Without realizing it, her hands reached into the fabric of her shirt and crumpled it under her fingers. She had to force a smile onto her lips, but it felt as fake as sunshine in winter. "That's very kind of you, Dr Taylor."

"Jonathan," he corrected doggedly.

"Oh, yes, of course. Jonathan." She tasted the name on her tongue again and cleared her throat. It was a strange situation, and Eve was somewhat overwhelmed by it. She didn't usually call doctors by name, which seemed a bit inappropriate. But it was probably also simply because she had never grown up in such a close-knit community in the middle of nowhere. But that was precisely why she was here, wasn't it? For a fresh start. So she should accept the kindness instead of being so suspicious.

Ray grimly muttered something she didn't understand and went to the front door, presumably to continue his work. She surmised that the reason for his displeasure was that something wasn't working as it should. Or he was once again short of materials - something happening more frequently recently.

Her gaze briefly followed the man moving around the house like a shadow for almost a week now and whose whereabouts could be traced by hammering or other noises. In the last few days, she hadn't been bothered when he was around. At first, she was still unaccustomed to it, but now it seemed almost too quiet if she didn't hear a knock or rattle somewhere in the house.

"Do you want to stay down here? Or do we want to go upstairs? It's a bit more private there." The doctor's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and only now did she realize that he was looking at her in anticipation.

As if of its own accord, Eve's hand slid to her face and fumbled for the blonde strands that covered the ugly scars at least a little to ensure they were doing their job. Again, her gaze slid fleetingly to Ray and then back to the doctor, who had more sensitivity than she would have given him credit for.

"I'd rather go upstairs, but I think it's better here. Because of the space, you'll still get your tea," she says. "Liam's playing upstairs, I'll get him down quickly."

A set of steps with whitewashed banisters led into a long, cozily furnished hallway. On the left was a colonial-style chest of drawers, on which a few dried flowers added a splash of color. At the end of the corridor, a window offered a view of the forest's edge and let in a little daylight through the white curtains.

As soon as she was out of sight, she closed her eyes and felt over the irregular scars stretching across her cheek's curve. It might sound ridiculous, but she would have preferred being treated upstairs. But the rooms weren't huge. People who came here didn't spend their time inside, outside the countryside, or the rest of the cottage. There was more space downstairs, and yet ... she didn't feel comfortable. Ray was still a stranger. She didn't want him to see more than he needed to, and she didn't like being so ... exposed. But it didn't help. Sighing softly, she continued on her way.

"Liam," she called out before Eve knocked and entered the nursery. Unlike hers, the walls were covered in floral wallpaper, and children's scribbles were in various places. She and Riona had spent their childhood holidays in this room before emigrating from Ireland to America. Toys from different generations were piled up here. Some were in boxes, others on wooden shelves, and even a big old doll's house was in one corner. But Liam preferred playing with the racetrack and the cars.

"Dr Taylor is here to check on us. Please come down," she asked, and the boy made a visibly reluctant face.

"But..." he began, but Eve interrupted him immediately and raised her hand.

"You can carry on playing straight after," she promised him, but he curled his lips again reluctantly before detaching himself from the cars and following her downstairs.

Dr. Taylor had just helped herself to the cinnamon buns and uttered an indulgent "Oh, they're really delicious!" as she came down with Liam. Then he shook Liam's hand with a smile. "Hello, Liam. You look much better than you did a few weeks ago," he praised the boy and accompanied Eve and Liam to the kitchen table, where he opened the doctor's bag and laid out everything they needed.

Meanwhile, Liam took off his jumper and sat on the nearest chair in his vest, letting his legs dangle. In a routine that made Eve's heart sink, he held out his right arm to the doctor. It was bandaged from the wrist to just below the elbow. With a clammy feeling in her stomach, Eve brought him an orange juice while he talked about the woodland creatures who brought them presents.

"So, what presents do they bring you?" asked Dr Taylor as he began to unwind the bandage around Liam's arm.

"This morning, it was a hazelnut branch! With hazelnuts on it!" said Liam. "They left it outside the door, and I was the first to find it this morning. Ri said it was good luck."

Eve and Dr Taylor looked at each other, and the blonde smiled sheepishly. Ri kept Liam amused with countless stories about all kinds of nonsense. The wind had probably blown the branch in front of the porch, or Chief dragged it here. But in a child's imagination, everything was full of wonder... and that was fine.

"What lovely woodland gnomes," Dr Taylor relented, pulling gloves over his fingers. He carefully examined the burnt, mottled areas on the arm.

"That looks very good. And you're courageous," he praised Liam in a calm tone, "nothing is inflamed or infectious. You still have to clean the dressing every day. Still, it looks very promising. The colleagues at PeaceHealth Harbor Medical Centre have done an excellent job," he continued, this time more directed at the mother.
"I will still prescribe painkillers, and we should keep an eye on it." A short pause followed. "Since I have to come in more often anyway because of Edana, can I always take the opportunity to look at your injuries?"

Eve was about to answer when a loud banging at the front door interrupted her. Ray had lifted the door off its hinges and had bumped into something? With a grumbled "Sorry," he leaned her against the wall outside and disappeared from her sight. Eve blinked and frowned briefly, then turned back to Jonathan.

"Er, yes, of course, I'd love to," she said, but didn't really mean it. To tell the truth, she was glad to be here - away from the people who stared at her or did the exact opposite and made her visibly uncomfortable. But ... Liam didn't deserve her cowardice. And she was prepared to fight any battle for her son. Even against herself if she had to.

"Can I go and play again?" Liam asked, interrupting Eve's gloomy thoughts, which obscured the golden sun inside her like the grey clouds in the sky above them.

"Of course you can. Go ahead."

She couldn't even have counted to three when Liam had already stormed up the stairs and disappeared from her sight.

"So, shall we have a look at your wound?" Dr. Taylor conscientiously changed the disposable gloves and put on fresh ones while Eve swallowed harder.

Her heartbeat quickened involuntarily, and her palms became cold and increasingly moist. To vent her bitter anxiety, she brushed her palms over her jeans as she turned her face towards Dr Taylor. Despite the protective gloves, his fingers felt warm against her skin as he gripped her chin and turned it slightly. As if the wound was still fresh and hadn't been healing for weeks, he gently and almost tenderly pushed the strands of hair away from her face.

Eve only heard his steady breathing and flinched briefly when he touched the sensitive area. But he proceeded with noticeable caution, feeling around the edges and touching a few places more carefully. Only after a few moments did Eve realize that she had been holding her breath and was breathing shallowly with trepidation.

"I can imagine how difficult this must be," the doctor finally said after a few moments, dipping his fingertips into the silver tin of ointment that he had also applied to Liam. Jonathan carefully spread it over the wound and made a noticeable effort to be gentle. "But you don't need to hide, Eve."

He carefully cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger and turned her face so that she could look at him. Nevertheless, the colors were equally blurred because of the tears welling up in both her eyes. "You are a strong woman. You're raising your son, and you won't give up ... despite everything that's happened."

The young woman swallowed. Under the weight of emotion, shame, and a guilty conscience for the lies she had told these well-meaning people, she felt as if a scratchy rope was tightening around her throat. Her fingers went numb as she reached for the doctor's wrist...

"I..."

There was another crash nearby.

Eve flinched so suddenly at the sound that she almost jumped from her chair. This time, Dr Taylor frowned disapprovingly in the direction of the troublemaker, who was tinkering with the hinges with a hammer, far removed from any sense of decorum. You could almost have thought the idiot was doing it on purpose. With a snort, the doctor shook his head and began to tidy up the utensils.

"That's all right. We'll talk about it another time."

"Thank you, Dr ... I mean Jonathan." Eve smoothed out the non-existent creases in her shirt.

"You're welcome," Dr Taylor replied but took the opportunity of the following farewell to shake the young woman's hand and lean a little closer to her ear. "Take care of yourselves. I don't like this guy, and ... some very strange people hang around here sometimes," he said quietly, and Eve noticed his suspicious look as he squinted at Ray.

"Is that why you want to visit us more often?" she asked, slightly amused that the village doctor seemed worried about the little lambs in the forest. That was ... cute.

"Maybe," Jonathan replied, and this time, there was a small shadow in his smile that Eve didn't know how to interpret. "Better safe than sorry. We look out for each other out here."