Inside his ear, she saw it: a dense, dark mass, glistening in the morning light. Years of neglect, overlooked by every specialist, blocked the world from Lucien. Her mind raced. Could she remove it? Could she trust herself? Every scenario clashed violently in her thoughts. She was a maid, untrained, accountable to no one for this miracle. If she failed, he could be hurt, she could be prosecuted, her grandmother’s care could vanish.
Yet the thought of doing nothing was unbearable. She remembered her cousin, Julian, who had spent six years deaf until a single, simple procedure restored his hearing. She remembered the promise she had made after losing her brother at fourteen, swearing never to ignore a child’s suffering. Her hands shook as she gathered her courage.
That night, she prepared: sterilized tweezers from the estate’s first aid kit, deep breaths, prayers whispered into the still air. When dawn arrived, Lucien was in pain again, curled on the stone bench outside, his small hands clutching his ear. Marina approached carefully, speaking softly in signs and whispers. He looked at her with wide, fearful eyes, then nodded, allowing her to examine him.