*Norah*
My stomach is roiling, and I press my unbloodied fingers against my mouth. I hadn't noticed the wound as we rode because he used his other arm to hold me. "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, feeling a mix of anger and concern.
"What did you want me to say? That I learned you do not make idle threats?" he responds defensively.
He thinks I shot him on purpose, but it happened by chance. However, his misconception might give me an advantage if I don't challenge his perception of the event. "You have to tend the wound. Is the bullet still lodged in there?" I inquire, trying to remain composed.
"It went clean through. I will stop bleeding in a little while," he explains.
"In a little while? I can't have you bleeding on me all night," I snap, hoping he won't sense my underlying concern
