“Yes. But don’t forget to use theflatof the blade, and to pull apart the skin. You don’t want to cauterize the outside and leave the bleeder on the inside. That’s a death sentence.”
“Okay….” Sucking in a steadying breath, I peel the skin apart, pressing the flat of the blade deep into the wound. As soon as it makes contact, an angry sizzling sound emanates from the wound, and my stomach turns at the sight of the blood bubbling up from the gash.
Careful not to cut any of the surrounding tissue, I press the blade down flat like Dr. Herrera said, praying that I manage to cauterize whatever vein has been nicked.
When the sizzling ceases, I pull back, holding my breath as I watch the wound, sure that the blood will begin oozing again. Only, it doesn't.
“Fuckyes.” I let the blade clatter to the floor, and a manic laugh bubbles past my lips. “It… it stopped. I did it.” I reach up, wiping a tear from my eye as my adrenaline fades, leaving me more empty than I’ve ever felt in my life.
I’m exhausted, but my job is far from over.
“Great job, Grace. How does the wound look?”
“It’s … angry. The gash is still there, but it’s not bleeding anymore.”
“Perfect. You must have gotten it. You said you have sutures?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll need to sew the skin together. If he moves, it could cause the bleeding to start again.”
“I’m… not much of a sewer…”
“It doesn’t have to be pretty. It just has to hold.”
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I reach for my box of surgical sutures and pull out one of the curved needles. Happy to find the thing has been threaded for me, I go to work on Seven’swound, sewing jagged stitches into Seven’s flesh. It’s a sloppy job, but it should hold. That’s all that matters at this point.
I sit back on my heels, wiping the back of my hand over my sweat-slicked brow.
“All done,” I whisper. “He’s got a lot of smaller cuts… should I do anything about those?”
“It would be best to dress them with some sort of gauze.
“Okay.”
I get to work on his less serious injuries. For many shallow cuts, all I do is apply the ointment, add a strip of absorbent gauze, and wrap it with bandages. It’s inferior work, but itdoesstop the worst of the bleeding.
“I’m done.” I stare down at Seven’s still body. “I… thank you, Dr. Herrera.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he mutters. “There’s a great chance he’s still bleeding internally, or that he’ll contract some kind of infection. He needs to go to a hospital, Grace.”
“Listen to him, Grace,” Saffron says. “Just… tell me where you are. We can send an ambulance to pick you both up?—”
“I can’t, Saf.” I clutch the phone tight. “He’s… he can’t go to the hospital. They’ll… they’ll take him away from me.”
“Takehimaway fromyou? What the hell is going on, Grace?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “But I do know that I can’t come home now. Not for a while.” My throat tightens. “I’m sorry, Saffron. I’ll explain everything eventually. But right now, I need to go.”
“Why, Grace? Just tell me why?”
“Because… because I think I love him,” I say. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I love you, Saf.”
“Grace! Don’t you dare hang up on me!”
“I’m so sorry.” I press the end call button.
My heart hurts when I think about the worry I’m putting her through—after all the help she’s just given me. But I can’t goback now. I can’t tell Saffron where I am, or what’s happened. Not yet. Soon, but not yet.
