Elodie quickly rummaged through some of the medical kits that were scattered about, looking for any leftover supplies that hadn’t been used by the others to help him. She brought what she could find forward and kneeled at the stranger’s side.
His eyes slit open to watch her as she peeled back the sealing tape in her hand. Elodie pinched the gash closed on his forearm and placed the tape over it. The tape held the skin in place and that was all she hoped for.
Medical had never been her talent. The man clasped his hand over the wound and eyed her warily. She pulled back his frayed clothes to reveal even more burns underneath.
She picked up the half-used can and wiped her mouth on her sleeve, releasing the remainder of the serum on his wounds.
“Ely, right?” he asked.
“Elodie,” she corrected. “My name’s Elodie.”
“Pretty. Like a song.”
“Thank you...” She frowned.
The can sputtered as she moved to his leg. She shook it until more spray came out.
“Are you scared?” he asked as she worked on him.
“Yes.”
“I am too.”
She moved the empty can to his head. The entire right side of his face was red and angry, skin peeling back in strips. He cringed when the ship violently trembled.
“I was in the cell across from you.”
She lowered her hand and she looked into his pained eyes. Recognition. It hit her slowly, and her finger almost broke the can’s trigger.
“You were,” she whispered, searching his face. “You never spoke.”
“Neither did you.”
“I had nothing to say.”
“Neither did I.”
Elodie dropped her eyes and let go of the empty can. Useless. She wiped her brow and dug through the kits nearby, looking for something—anything—that could take away the man’s pain. It wasn’t fair that she had made it through the explosion with nothing more than a few scrapes and a couple bruises.
“There’s nothing left in here.” She pushed the kits away in disgust. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled at her through the pain.
She forced her eyes to meet his. “I’m really sorry.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to help.”
“You did.”
Elodie shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She didn’t feel helpful. She barely knew this man, but he spoke kindly to her, and she had sat captive across from him for weeks—weeks—without learning his name. Guilt and confusion assailed her. She wished Gunner was by her side to help sort through her turbulent emotions. “I’m sorry,” she said again, rising to her feet, and moving away before he could stop her. She decided she didn’t want to know him, didn’t want to form another connection with another being. Gunner already took up all of her thoughts.
God, I hope he’s okay.
A hand caught her bruised arm.
“Dad.” Elodie fell against his chest in defeat. Warm arms banded around her back, the same arms that rocked her to sleep when she was a child, and she sagged into him. Where had all the time gone? She never felt so old and so young at the same time. At theworsttime. Her dad rubbed her back as fresh tears formed on her eyelashes.
