Liz
Regina helped me out of my shirt, ensuring that the fabric didn't tug too much on the reopened wounds. She clicked her tongue softly before gathering gauze from her bag and dabbing it gently at my skin. She muttered to herself under her breath while we sat in a comfortable silence. Her tending to me and me simply... existing. It felt strangely intimate in a familial way.
When she seemed satisfied that the blood had finally stopped leaking from my body, she spread her materials out across the bed beside me. My eyes widened at the sight of scalpels, needles, and sutures neatly organized beside bottles and jars filled with liquids and creams I didn't recognize. There was even a small container of white pulls placed carefully near the edge of the mattress.
Regina pulled a stethoscope fr
