Dirty Flowers – The Lion and the Mouse Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 148949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
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“Alright, Emily.” Dr. Stovall’s voice remained calm and reassuring. “It looks like we have one more piece.”

“O-okay.”

“This is the last one.” He took that one out.

She winced again.

Giorgio had grabbed Dr. Stovall. Apparently, the man had been hidden in Giorgio’s room because somehow the pansy had figured out a way to disrupt the footage. No doubt he had his cousin Louis do something to our security system.

I slowed down my pacing.

Dr. Stovall turned over each hand and inspected all the cuts. “No more glass.”

A dark groan vibrated through my chest.

Emily didn’t look my way. “Thank you, Dr. Stovall.”

“My pleasure, Emily.”

“After this, your wife and you can go home.” She gave him a sad smile. “I hope I have well compensated you with the check, but I know—”

“It was fine.” Grinning, Dr. Stovall began to examine each finger one by one. “My wife enjoyed the presents, masseuse, all the caviar, and champagne. Actually, I may have to drag her away from your mansion.”

Emily whispered, “Thank God.”

I stopped pacing and glared at them.

Bloody pieces of glass filled a metal bowl next to the doctor.

“Now we will clean the wounds.” Dr. Stovall raised her hands and placed a large bowl under them. “Have you ever heard of the story of Miriam, the candlemaker?”

“No.”

“Once upon a time, in a far-off land, there was a mother named Miriam who made candles all day and night to sell them at the market.” He poured water all over her hands. The liquid shifted to red and streamed into the bowl. “Miriam made these candles to earn enough money to feed and take care of her two children.”

“O-kay.”

“Miriam was a skilled candle maker, and her candles were always in high demand. Therefore, one month the king requested her to make hundreds of them for his festival that was going to be held at his palace.” Dr. Stovall softly patted her hands with a small towel and then placed the blood stained material next to the bowl. “Miriam agreed, hoping to earn enough money to give her children a better life.”

I quirked my brows.

Where is this going?

“For weeks, Miriam worked tirelessly, making candle after candle.” Dr. Stovall lifted up a bottle full of a clear solution and poured it over both hands. “Miriam worked during the day. She labored all night. Hardly sleeping. Barely eating.”

Emily widened her eyes.

Dr. Stovall set the bottle down. “She worked so much and for so long that the wax from the candles began to form around her body, sticking and hardening all over. One would think that she would stop, but she ignored the wax as well as the pain, and continued to work.”

Emily parted her lips.

“The whole time, she pushed and pushed, wax stuck to her hair, face, neck, arms, body, legs. Everywhere.” Dr. Stovall grabbed antibiotic ointment from a container and began applying it to each cut. “When she finished the last candle, she froze.”

Emily leaned her head to the side. “Froze?”

“She was stuck completely in wax and couldn’t move.” Dr. Stovall grabbed sterile gauze and began bandaging her hands. “Finally, the day of the festival comes. The king’s assistant arrives at her house and sees this large spectacular candle in the center of the kitchen. It is the shape of a woman, frozen in shock and pain. So real. Almost as if alive.”

“It’s Miriam.”

“Yes.” Dr. Stovall finished bandaging her hand and went to the next. “Miriam became a candle.”

I rolled my eyes.

“But the assistant didn’t know it was her. He thought it was a real candle. Therefore, he ordered his men to gather all the small candles, but especially the huge one that was her. He decided that she would be the festival’s centerpiece.” Dr. Stovall used medical tape to secure parts of the gauze. “That night, the guests danced around Miriam as she glowed and slowly burned away.”

Stop telling her this stupid story.

I scowled.

Idiot! Just tell her to stop fucking punching glass.

“Meanwhile, her children starved and died alone in their house, waiting for her to return.” Dr. Stovall patted her bandaged hands and smiled. “All done.”

Emily widened her eyes. “What kind of story is that?”

“The story of Miriam is a metaphor for the dangers of burning yourself out.” Dr. Stovall rose from his chair. “It teaches us that we must take care of ourselves, both physically and mentally.”

Emily stood.

“We should not sacrifice our own well-being for the sake of others.” He frowned at her. “In the end, it is only by taking care of ourselves that we can truly care of others.”

“You’re right.”

“I am.”

I crossed my arms over my chest.

Dr. Stovall sighed. “Your cuts are not too deep, but they will take some time to heal.”

Emily glanced at the bandages. “Okay.”

Dr. Stovall continued, “It’s important to keep the bandages clean and dry. You can wash your hands, but make sure to avoid getting the bandages wet.”


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