CHAPTER FORTY
relief
DAY 7
A medic loosely wraps Finan’s hands and wrists with a wide strip of sterile, nonstick gauze and then covers him with a gray wool blanket. He’s carried out of the shed via four men supporting a stretcher, including Wes. Len Emmerich inspects my head and face for injury and helps me into a pair of rough socks. Who knows where my ugly boots landed. Len sports his own black-and-purple shiner around his left eye, the white nearly consumed with blood. We stare at each other for a beat, and something flashes in his expression that resembles an apology.
I stand with his help so I can be near Finan—my damage is a scrape compared to his. I refuse to let go of his arm as we walk back through the woods toward the main house, Len supporting my weight on the right side. Th
