GREY'S POV
I stood at the doorstep for a few seconds to familiarize myself with the layout of the house. The corridor on my left must be was the direction Leila's room was in. I held her more securely against me and carried her to it. I laid her gently on the bed. I was pretty sure that the head wound was not deep, but I just had to make sure. I found the kitchen, got a bowl, some hot water from the bathroom and a towel. I turned Leila on her stomach and with my fingers, gently combed through her blood matted hair.
The cut was not deep. As I cleaned the wound with the wet towel, she stirred from time to time. As I turned her on her back, her eyes opened a fraction. I froze. My heart skipped a bit. In my head, I began to concoct lies I could tell to explain my presence in her bedroom.
