I said nothing.
“Can you go without . . . ?” One flicker of her gaze to my chest should have been answer enough.
I shook my head.
She sighed, but I could also tell she was thinking the same thing.
She handed me a piece of leather and I turned it over gently in my hands, confused.
“Bite on it. I have to place the ribs.”
Always one to do as I was told, I placed the leather between my teeth, biting just as I felt like someone was stabbing me. The pain was almost unbearable for a moment before it began to lessen. I eyed Friar, thankful I had experience with this type of pain. As her fingers danced over my ribs, she paused.
“It really is a beautiful tattoo.”
I didn’t know what to say.
It was okay though, because she was already rewrapping my chest, focusing specifically on the area where my breasts were, skipping the lower ribs, which had been injured. I gnawed at my lip, feeling like something was crawling in my skin. I had always started my wrap just above my navel, to ensure my torso was uniform-looking, hiding the curve above my hips.
Friar appeared to know what she was doing, only using about four rounds of the cloth before producing a sharp blade to slice the fabric nearly in half. I gulped, my hope gone as I saw half of my shield, which had been my constant companion for a decade, flutter to the floor.
“I’ll bring you a new one once you are healed,” she explained, her gaze flitting between me and the dark bruises which I could now see on my ribs. The skin also held partially healed lacerations. I had been bleeding, but it was stopped now.
Suddenly, her hand was on my chin, moving my face from left to right. Never one to question authority, I allowed her to do so, even as a chill snaked down my side.
“You’re one of them,” she whispered.
I opened my mouth to ask one of who, but the doorknob starting jiggling.
“We’ve got your supplies!” Markus, or maybe it was Syrus, called through the door.
“That was fast.” The words might have been for me, but they also seemed to just be for herself. She helped me pull my shirt back over my head before unlocking the door.
Too fast, I realized, as the two men dropped a variety of vials and jars on Friar’s table before heading right to me. I didn’t know much about healing, but I had the feeling she wasn’t done. But now she had to be.
“He needs rest. At least three days.” The plea was evident in her voice.
“That’s up to the boss, not us,” one of them grumbled,maybe Markus.
“Tell him if he wants to continue whatever it is he’s doing with him, he needs time. He will die if this continues.”
The scoffs out of their mouths told me everything I needed to know.
I was expendable, and this was not a permanent position.
After my realizations in Friar’s room, I was roughly returned to my own cell, presumably to rest, and I had assumed there was no way the situation could get any worse. But I was wrong.
It might have been the same day, but it also might have been the next one. It was hard to be sure, but my door swung open, Markus and Syrus standing there, something gripped between them.
It took time for me to recognize her dark hair, thin frame, and cheeks dotted with freckles.
“Collum!” The word was past my lips before I could stop it.
“Milo,” she said sadly, that one word revealing nothing about the status of my twin.
Markus and Syrus just chuckled, pushing her forward into the room before swinging the door shut.
Collum rushed forward, brushing the strands of hair that had grown sticky to my face out of the way, the way she always had when I was sick over the years.
