Malachi knew that he had upset her, but he didn’t know what else to do. The only doctor he had ever seen had turned out to be… well, the reason for his injuries rather than the cure. He had no desire to ever see another one – he never had, and he’d made it this far, right? He’d dealt with injuries worse than these, without anyone’s help but his own.

Never injuries like these, but a wound was a wound. Blood was blood.

He was quiet too, after that. He lifted his arms and moved as necessary, but he was weak, and he was still so tired. Once Nettie had finished, Malachi moved to sit carefully at the edge of the bed, wincing as he did so.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I know this is hard for you. I haven’t ever… had anyone to help me before.”