Meriwa worked as delicately as she could with shaking hands. For the most part, she was accurate and Lilah wasn’t quite as exacting as she’d claimed to be. If anything, she was gentle as she guided Meriwa through the steps of stitching her up.
That hadn’t been part of the plan but the cuts on her hands – from scrambling after a knife in the dark – were deeper than they’d seemed at first. While Lilah could have probably stumbled through giving herself the stitches, she’d admitted to not wanting to try.
Something about them being lopsided because she was left-hand dominant.
Which is how they found themselves where they are now.
Lilah was sitting on the couch, her hands upturned on her knees with Meriwa perched on the coffee table opposite her. Their knees pressed against each other,
