Tessa stopped at the treatment room’s doorway and waited for the patient to invite her farther.
The room smelled of warm water, damp cloth, and a resin she could not identify. A narrow bed stood against the wall with a folded blanket at its foot. The healer had placed her covered record book on a low shelf, out of the way of the tray but within the patient’s sight. No powered kit had followed them through the passage.
The helper pointed to a stool. Tessa set the inspected bag beside it and kept the opening turned toward the healer.
“What should I call you?” she asked the patient through the interpreter.
“Savin.”
The woman said it firmly, as though the name were the first part of the examination she would control. Tessa repeated it once and asked whether Savin wanted the helper and interpreter to remain for questions as well as treatment. Savin looked at each of them, then nodded. The healer took the place beside her injured leg.
Tessa explained what she proposed before touching the blanket. Look at the leg first. Ask about the injury and changes since. Examine with her hands only where Savin permitted. No device storing an unseen measurement. If she found something she could not assess, she would say so.
