Chapter ElevenPresent day
“Finished,” said Alexia in a soft voice as she applied the last bandage to Raven's hand. “Hopefully that'll hold.” She crouched before him, checking his bandages as he sat in a shadowy corner of the prison yard, away from prying eyes.
He flexed the muscles of his left hand, feeling the burn as the slashed skin stretched beneath the new bandage. He rotated his wrist, bending and straightening the joint. On his chest, the cuts from the previous night had been cleaned and soothed with cream. Raven's mind boggled at where Alexia could have gotten cream from, but she seemed capable of acquiring so many f*******n things inside the prison.
Beneath his cuts, a dark bruise remained from his cracked rib, a constant reminder of his fight with Wilson. He felt fragile today
