When Celeste brought Camille into the bathing chamber, the air inside was already warm with steam. The soft mineral scent of heated water lingered in the room, and the mplight reflected gently off the stone tiles and the surface of the waiting basin. The bath itself had already been drawn, but Camille noticed immediately that Lena was standing near the shower alcove rather than beside the basin.

  Lena had clearly prepared the room in advance. Her sleeves were rolled neatly to her forearms, her hair secured behind her head, and a tray rested on a nearby counter holding folded cloths, antiseptic solution, salve, and clean towels. She looked up as the two women entered and allowed her eyes to move calmly over Camille.

  She took in the stiffness in Camille’s walk, the raised welts that had already begun to color beneath the skin, and the faint streaks of dried blood along Camille’s thigh and hip. Lena did not show surprise or arm. She simply nodded once.

  “All right,” Lena said evenly. “We’ll rinse you first.”

  Celeste remained beside Camille, her hand steady at Camille’s back. She did not speak, and Camille did not ask questions. The robe Celeste had pced around Camille earlier slipped from her shoulders as Lena gently removed it. The gesture was practical and unceremonious, and Camille offered no resistance.

  “Hold the rail,” Lena instructed.

  Camille stepped into the tiled shower alcove and grasped the metal support bar mounted along the wall. Her hands trembled faintly, though she did not try to hide it. Lena turned the valve, and warm water began to flow from the overhead fixture. The temperature was carefully banced—neither hot nor cold, but steady and controlled.

  When the water struck Camille’s shoulders, she drew in a sharp breath. Thin trails of diluted red ran down her back and along her legs as the water cleared the dried blood from her skin. The runoff pooled briefly at her feet before slipping quietly through the drain.

  No one commented on it.

  Lena adjusted the angle of the spray so the water would soften the surrounding skin before running directly over the most pronounced welts. After a moment, she stepped closer and pulled on a pair of gloves. Using a clean cloth beneath the running water, she began gently wiping along Camille’s thigh where a small break in the skin had formed.

  Camille flinched slightly.

  “Easy,” Lena said in the same calm tone. “It’s superficial.”

  She examined the rest of the marks with the same clinical attention, moving methodically without dramatizing what she saw.

  “There are two minor breaks in the skin,” Lena said after a moment. “No tearing. Bruising consistent with impact trauma.”

  Celeste watched quietly, offering no interruption.

  Lena reached for the antiseptic solution and applied it carefully to the opened areas. Camille’s jaw tightened as the liquid touched the skin, and a brief sting ran through her muscles.

  “It will sting,” Lena said matter-of-factly. “That’s normal.”

  The antiseptic was rinsed away with warm water a moment ter. When Lena was satisfied that the skin was clean, she shut off the shower.

  “Step out slowly,” she instructed.

  The shift in temperature made Camille slightly unsteady as she stepped onto the tile floor, but Celeste was already there to steady her. Celeste’s hand settled firmly at Camille’s waist.

  “Breathe,” Celeste murmured.

  Camille did as she was told.

  Lena wrapped a thick towel around Camille’s shoulders and guided her toward a low bench beside the basin. Kneeling in front of her, Lena examined the backs of Camille’s legs where the worst of the strikes had nded. She applied a thin yer of arnica salve to the swollen welts, smoothing it carefully over the skin without pressing too firmly.

  “The bruising will darken tonight,” Lena said calmly. “Walk tomorrow even if you’d rather not. Movement will prevent stiffness.”

  She finished her inspection and gave a small nod.

  “There’s no deep tissue damage,” she added. “Muscle trauma only.”

  Camille’s voice was rough when she finally spoke.

  “Is it bad?”

  Lena met her eyes briefly before answering.

  “No.”

  That was the entire assessment.

  When the treatment was complete, Lena finally gestured toward the basin.

  “She can soak now.”

  The bath had been waiting quietly beside them. The water was deep and mineral-warmed, sending gentle curls of steam into the room. With assistance from both women, Camille stepped carefully down into the basin. This time the heat enveloped her body slowly, easing tension from muscles that had been rigid since she left the chamber.

  Her shoulders lowered slightly, and her breathing gradually steadied.

  Lena remained nearby for a moment, watching carefully for signs of dizziness or shock. When she was satisfied that Camille was stable, she stepped back.

  Celeste moved closer to the edge of the basin.

  “You do not leave it on your skin,” Celeste said quietly.

  Camille looked down at the surface of the water.

  “Leave what?” she asked.

  “What you believed about yourself.”

  The words did not carry accusation or comfort. They settled into the quiet room as naturally as the steam drifting upward from the basin.

  After several minutes, Lena returned with a clean towel and helped Camille stand. Celeste steadied her again as she stepped out of the bath. Together they dried her carefully, restoring warmth and circution without aggravating the tender skin.

  Lena retrieved a simple ivory garment from a nearby chair and helped Camille slip into it. The fabric was loose and soft, offering no structure and requiring no effort to wear.

  When she finished, Lena stepped back and folded the remaining towels on the tray.

  “She’ll sleep,” Lena said. “Hydrate her in the morning and encourage light movement.”

  Celeste studied Camille for a moment longer before turning to Lena.

  “You were thorough,” Celeste said.

  Lena inclined her head slightly. “It’s my job.”

  Celeste stepped a little closer, her voice remaining calm and controlled.

  “When you complete your program,” she said, “you will not stop there. I will cover your trauma certification as well.”

  Lena looked up with mild surprise.

  “That isn’t necessary.”

  “It is,” Celeste replied.

  The statement was simple and final.

  After a moment, Lena nodded once. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She gathered her tray and the used cloths and quietly left the chamber.

  When the door closed behind her, the room grew still again.

  Celeste turned back toward Camille. She gently lifted Camille’s chin so their eyes met.

  “You were not destroyed,” Celeste said.

  Camille’s voice was faint but steady. “No.”

  “You were measured,” Celeste continued. “And you endured.”

  Camille swallowed and asked quietly, “Was it enough?”

  “Yes,” Celeste answered.

  There was no hesitation in the word.

  Celeste released her chin and allowed her hand to fall away.

  “It is finished,” she said.

  For the first time since the chamber door had opened hours earlier, Camille realized that her body was no longer trembling. The warmth of the bath and the quiet steadiness of the room had settled something deep within her.

  The house had received her.

  And this time, she did not resist it.