— I won’t hurt you, Marissa said.
— Do you trust me? she asked gently.
— Okay, Erica nodded, her voice shaky.
— Just do something, she pleaded.
Marissa murmured softly, her hands hovering over Erica’s back. The women watched, mesmerized, as Erica’s tension eased. Ten minutes passed, and Erica’s pain seemed to vanish. She stood, her eyes wide with shock.
— It’s gone, Erica whispered, stunned.
— How’d you do that, Marissa? she asked.
— Just a gift, Marissa said, smiling humbly.
— No big deal, she added casually.
Foxy broke the silence, her voice trembling. The others stared, torn between awe and disbelief. Marissa stayed relaxed, brushing off the attention. She’d seen reactions like this before.
— Was that magic? Foxy stammered.
— Just helping out, Marissa said.
— You all saw it, she added, shrugging.
— Nothing fancy, she said with a wink.
Mama Jean’s eyes narrowed, her suspicion clear. She lowered her voice, probing Marissa’s motives. The mood turned serious, the air thick with questions. Marissa kept her cool.
— You planned that, didn’t you? Mama Jean asked.
— Trying to look good? she pressed.
— Me? I’m not that clever, Marissa laughed.
— Just doing what I do, she said.
Tank yawned, her loud voice breaking the tension. The long night had drained them all. The cell settled, the energy fading. Marissa welcomed the quiet.
— Time to crash, ladies, Tank said.
— My eyes are done, she mumbled.
— Good call, Marissa said, relieved.
— Let’s rest, Foxy agreed, stretching.
The next morning, a new officer appeared at the cell door. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the early quiet. Marissa’s heart leapt at the words. The women stirred, curious.
— Walters, grab your stuff, the officer said.
— You’re out, she added briskly.
— Out? Marissa repeated, stunned.
— Move it, the officer said, impatient.
The women exchanged glances, respect in their eyes. Marissa gathered her belongings, her mind racing with questions. What had changed overnight? She wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t complaining.
Stepping into the hallway, Marissa felt a mix of relief and unease. Willow Creek’s drama wasn’t over, she could feel it. The healer’s journey had taken a wild turn. More surprises were surely waiting.
Marissa glanced back at the tank, the women watching her go. Tank gave a nod, a silent acknowledgment. Foxy smirked, and Mama Jean raised a hand. She’d made an impression, for better or worse.
As she walked out of the station, the morning air hit her face. Freedom felt strange after the chaos of the tank. Marissa’s mind buzzed with thoughts of Ellen and the sheriff. This wasn’t the end of her story.
The streets of Willow Creek stretched before her, quiet and familiar. Marissa adjusted her headscarf, her bangles jingling softly. She was a healer, a survivor, and now, a bit of a legend. Whatever came next, she’d face it head-on.