Eloin raised a shaking hand to touch her head. Bandages wrapped around her scalp, but the constant, burning ache she’d been living with for two years was gone.
“Are they gone?” she asked.
“All of them,” Ariston said from the doorway. “You’re free.”
Elo started crying—not from pain, but from relief.
The doctor smiled.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Tired,” Elo said. “But better.”
“That’s normal,” the doctor said. “You’ll need rest. No school. No stress.”
They went home that afternoon. Ariston carried Elo up to her room and tucked her into bed.
“I’m going to stay home with you,” he said. “No work. No trips. Just us.”
“Really?”
“Really. I have a lot of time to make up for.”
Elo smiled and drifted off to sleep.
When Sky’s mother came to pick her up, Ariston met her at the door.
“Thank you for letting Sky stay,” he said.
“She wouldn’t have left anyway,” her mother said with a tired laugh. “That girl has a will of steel.”
“She saved my daughter’s life,” Ariston said.
Sky’s mother looked at her daughter, pride softening her face.
“She’s always had a big heart,” she said.
The next morning, the police arrived at Miss Calva’s townhouse.
“Miss Calva,” an officer said, “you’re under arrest for child abuse and exceeding authorized research protocols.”
She didn’t resist. She simply held out her wrists.
“This is a mistake,” she said. “I was following orders.”
“You can explain that to the judge,” the officer replied.
When Elo heard the news, she cried again.
“She can’t hurt me anymore,” she said.
“Never again,” Ariston promised.
Over the next few weeks, Elo’s head slowly healed. Her hair began to grow back in soft blonde fuzz. The scars on her scalp faded from angry red to pale silver. The nightmares came less often. Sky visited every day after school. They drew pictures, watched movies, played board games. For the first time in years, Elo did normal kid things.
One afternoon, Elo looked at her father across the kitchen table.
“Dad,” she said. “I want to go to court.”
“What?”
“The hearing,” she said. “I want to tell the judge what happened.”
“You don’t have to,” Ariston said. “We can handle it.”
“I know,” Elo said. “I want to. So it never happens to another kid.”
He looked at his eight-year-old daughter and saw a strength in her he’d never seen in himself.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Sky squeezed her hand.
“I’ll go with you,” she said.