Settling in, sitting down, the events of the evening became more real. And less. As large as Helena’s house was, the dim flickering candlelight and shuttered windows seemed to compress the space to something smaller and more confining. Seated on the couch, Cinnamon dangled her legs over the edge where Helena caught sight of the bleeding scrapes caused by their two redneck friends hauling Cinnamon up and forcing her to ‘stand’ on the stumps of her legs.

“Sweet mother of God,” Helena said in a stricken voice, “we need to get you tended to, Cinnamon! Why didn’t you say something?”

The dark woman’s face gleamed in the candlelight and she gave a weary smile. “I ‘spect Miz Porter’s got as much grit in her knee as I got here.” She gestured to the bottoms of her legs.

“Well, then,” Helena said with determination, “we need to get you BOTH taken care of.”

“I’m fine,” Bette grumped, the draw of her face making it clear that she was anything but.

“Let me take a look,” Dana said, moving over to remove the makeshift splint on Bette’s knee.

Bette slapped her hand away. “I said, I’m fine!” she snarled.

Dana slapped her back. “Bullshit!” The shock on Bette’s face almost made Dana laugh. How long was it since anyone stood up to her. “You’re not fine, Porter! And I, for one, am tired of your tough bitch routine. You’ve fucked up your knee and if we don’t get it stabilized, you’re going to be shopping for a new one by the time this is over.”

Bette blanched, and took a hard swallow. The thought that this might be serious…serious enough to require surgery hadn’t entered her mind. “You’re exaggerating, Dana,” she shrugged.

“Not hardly,” Dana muttered as she undid Helena’s cumberband, removed the branches splinting Bette’s knee, and parted the tear in her pants. She took a sharp, hissing breath.

“What!” Bette’s eyes rounded. “What!”

“Shit, Bette,” Dana said hoarsely, “you’ve really done a number on yourself.” The gashes themselves didn’t look too bad. And the swelling was typical for a knee injury. But beneath the swelling, Bette’s knee was distorted, misshapen; something was badly out of place. Dana had seen enough knee injuries on the court to know that this was beyond arthroscopic surgery. Bette was headed for a serious slice and dice. Dana tried to mask her shock.