“Mr. Fanning,” I say. “Come on inside.”

Mr. Fanning grunts slightly as he gets out of the chair. He is in his early fifties with a large gut that stretches his khaki jumpsuit. He has that central obesity that makes me think he’s within five years of a major heart attack. Hopefully, by the time he starts getting those crushing chest pains, I’ll have moved on to another better job.

I assume Hunt doesn’t think Fanning is a safety concern, because he closes the door ninety percent of the way. Fanning climbs up on the examining table, cradling his right hand. It’s not a bad fracture, but it sucks for him that it happened on his dominant hand.

“So is it broken?” The bags under Fanning’s eyes seem to deepen. “It is, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I confirm. “But it’s a minor fracture. We can treat it here.”

Fanning looks doubtfully at his right hand. His pinky finger has turned almost purple, and his ring finger doesn’t look great either, but at least that one isn’t broken. He’s lucky he wasn’t wearing any rings, because we’d probably have to cut them off.

“It will heal fine,” I reassure him. “I promise. We just need to immobilize it.”

“Okay, Brooke,” he says. “If you say so.”

I’m glad he goes along with this plan. It’s not exactly easy for a prisoner to get a second opinion, especially since I don’t seem to have a doctor backing me up. The inmates have rights, and if he lawyered up, we would be in trouble. But most of the men either don’t know they can do this or don’t care enough. In any case, I try to give them the best medical treatment I can.

I grab some paper tape from a drawer so I can buddy tape his fourth and fifth digits together. Fanning watches me, a look of growing concern on his face. “That’s all you’re going to do?”

I wrap the tape around his fingers. “This is the standard treatment. It was a simple fracture—we just need to immobilize it.”

“And it will heal?”

“Absolutely.”

Fanning grimaces with pain as I stretch out his fingers to wrap the tape evenly. “Goddamn Nelson.”

I jerk my head up. “What?”

“Nothing,” Fanning says, his eyes suddenly wide with panic. “Never mind.”

“Mr. Fanning.” I wrap one more layer of tape over his fingers. “Can you please tell me how this happened?”

“I already told you.” He averts his gaze. “A door closed on my hand. I swear.”