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I looked back at her and then my hand.
"That's okay. Just... Just wrap it up quickly."
"But sir, stitches have—"
"I'll do it myself then."
"I'll... I'll do it." She held my hand tight as I tried to take it back.
Stacy quietly cleaned my wound and covered it with a thick layer of ointment. She then wrapped it carefully. Not even two minutes passed since the bandage was changed and it was dark red again.
Stacy stared at it helplessly. On her way out, she requested me to see a doctor again.
I ignored her and focused back on the papers. I cleaned the blood on the desk with tissues and discarded them. When I held the files again, and took a pen to scribble my signature, my eyes stilled on the freshly wrapped gauze on my hand.
How did I get it? It's quite surprising because it
