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Instead of letting me get them, she dug around again and produced two bandages, a different brand than what I had with me. As I grabbed the Neosporin out of my bag, I made a mental note to pick some of that brand up the next time I was at the store in case she ever needed a bandage while I was with her again.
“Are you allergic to anything in Neosporin?” I asked.
She shook her head. A little more blood had trickled out of the cut, so I wiped it clean again before opening one of the bandages and putting a dab of ointment on it. I put that over half of the cut, then did the same with the second bandage and covered the rest of the wound.
We needed to get out of here. I wasn’t going to get anything out of her like this. She needed to be somewhere she felt safe. Luckily, we still had a couple of minutes before the bell rang, so no one would even know we were here today at all if we left now.
“Ky, I’m going to take you home,” I told her. “You’re going to love on Cosette until you feel better and then we’ll talk about what happened this morning. Okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled.
“Okay,” I sighed in relief. “Will you let me help you up?”
She nodded, and I stood up and held my hand out to her. She took it and let me pull her up, then collapsed into my arms. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying like hell not to let my mind go to all of the worst-case scenarios as I kissed her head and rubbed her back.
“You’re okay, baby,” I whispered. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
