“I was told you have medical training?” the medic asks, and I nod.
“Yes, nursing.”
“Good. Give them these antibiotics twice a day after they’ve eaten, and these painkillers when needed. Your father’s injuries aren’t serious, except for a mild concussion; with enough rest, he should be fine soon.” I take the pills he hands me, listening closely to his instructions.
“Thank you.”
“Your brother’s wound should be cleaned in a few days, and he should limit his movement,” he says. I nod, watching as he leaves.
It’s been a couple of hours since Raul walked in with my father and a gunshot wound to his stomach. I was so worried he wouldn’t be okay, and I tried as much as possible to reduce the bleeding while waiting for Alessandro’s medic friend to arrive. I could have tried to take out the bul
