Jackson carefully wiped away the blood around Kayla’s wound, then poured more saltwater, letting it wash over the raw skin.
Even unconscious, she flinched from the pain, her body twisting weakly.
“Hold her still,” Jackson ordered, voice low but firm. His hands moved with steady precision.
Joseph tried first, but his strength was useless; Kayla kept jerking, and Jackson nearly tore the wound open again.
“Move,” Lily said sharply. She shoved Joseph aside and pressed down on Kayla’s legs while Sheree held her shoulders.
Once the bleeding was cleaned, Jackson reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sewing needle and a coil of thread—nothing fancy, just a mending kit salvaged from a wrecked bag.
He sterilized the needle in saltwater, then held it over the flame. When it glowed fain
