Inside the room, Elena's expression remained composed. Almost too composed for anyone to seem natural.
"Aren't you here to treat the wound on my palm?"
The doctor didn't back down. "I am."
"Then I believe you've already done that."
The older woman folded her arms. "And I believe there is something else that requires attention."
The doctor is becoming another obstacle.
A tense silence followed. Elena's jaw tightened. Barely. Yet noticeably.
The doctor spoke again. "When you reached for the tissue earlier, your sleeve shifted."
Elena remained silent.
"I saw blood clots and bruising along your forearm."
Words hung heavy in the room. Outside the door, Alaric's entire posture stiffened.
Bruising? Blood clots?
His mind immediately replayed the glimpse he had caught earlier when bandaging her hand.
The long sleeves she always wore. The way she always kept herself covered.
The exhaustion. The medication bottles. Suddenly none of it felt insignificant anymore.
