CHAPTER 23Fleur Brandt grunted as Garewell removed the dressing. Even though he had tried to be careful, the wound had stung, and she tried to examine it, holding a mirror to reflect the saucer-large burn on her back. The movement caused pain to dart from her broken ribs.
“Careful!” The aide had heard bad language before but had never learned to like it. “Just stay easy until I fix this.”
“It’s turning bad on me, right?” Brandt was a big woman with a hard face and a manner to match. Her nature did not match her name; there was nothing of the softness of flowers about it. “I should be treated by a proper doctor. Where’s Stacey?”
“With Rachel.” Garewell lifted a spray and covered the burned patch with an antiseptic film; a second spray firmed into a transparent dressing. “That should do i
