Rebecca’s POV
The healing wing felt heavier every time I walked into it. Not because of the blood or the wounded. Because of the eyes. Some of the warriors looked away when I passed. Others stared too long before lowering their gazes. Conversations softened around me.The woman who stood near the wall seemed reluctant to receive the tray from my hand as if she was afraid that by touching me she would contract my sickness or anything that was wrong with me.
I made sure that I did not show anything on my face.
But everyone’s stares were burning into me.
The scar that was visible through my shirt beat rhythmically as if reacting to my tension.
I focused on helping Mira instead.
Passing fresh water. Changing clothes. Cleaning small wounds where I could.
Simple things.
Normal things.
