It had been hours since we had gotten home. Mykel still hadn't said anything more since I cleaned his wrist. I looked at the clock on the table next to the bag of bandages Liz bought. It was nearing ten p.m. With a sigh, I glanced to Mykel. His eyes were closed but I knew he was awake. Liz was awake as well. I looked at her with a sad smile before reaching over and grabbing the bag. I pulled out the new roll of gauze, antiseptic cream, and a new, crisp, white wrap. Silently I took Mykel's wrist and began to unwrap it. I kept sending glances his way, trying to read in his face if my movements were causing him pain. No amount of pain I accidentally inflicted could compare to the pain in his heart; his face remained passive. I finished re-wrapping his wrist, thankful the bleeding stopped some
