45
Labrys whimpered as Shea helped her off with the helmet and laid it on the all-too-familiar handmade quilt on Labrys’ bed. The bedroom was cozy, organized, and very pink, just as Shea remembered it.
“How’s it look?” Labrys asked through gritted teeth.
“Bleeding stopped. It’s all kinda dried and caked in your hair. How you feel?”
“Ugh. Hurts like hell.” Labrys touched her scalp gingerly and winced. “But I don’t feel as jittery as I did.”
“We should clean out the wound. Make sure there’s no gunshot residue or anything in there that could get infected.”
“Sounds painful, but you’re probably right.” Labrys wriggled out of her jacket and tossed it next to the helmet. “Been awhile since you’ve been here, huh?”
“Looks the same.” The place was filled with ghosts of better times.
Labrys g
