“we need to change those bandages and get some food in you.”
It’s an effort to unknot the tension in her shoulders that grips her the instant she hears the door latch click. It’s an effort to keep her breathing even, to suppress the Delta-honed instinct to find a weapon, form up, get ready to fight even though her body feels as though it’s been mulched. It’s an effort to try and keep a level head when she can feel her adrenaline kick in; an effort made even harder as she registers her visitor’s face.
Clementine.
She can feel her insides churning. Clementine, the ringleader. Lilly’s voice, dripping contempt, as loud and clear as if she were still barking orders on the boat. Her fists- fist- clenches the sheets so tightly her knuckles verge on popping. Clementine, the instigator. Her own voice, rife with panic, her tunnel vision locked on the tracks she’s tied to and the villain hellbent on derailing the runaway train that is her life. Her heart thunders in her ears so loud she hardly registers Clementine’s words.
Bandages. Food. Minnie forces a breath that shakes from the tension in her chest. In. Out. She forces herself to tear her gaze away from Clementine. Closes her eyes. Breathes. In. Out. Bandages. Food. She’s not sure she can stomach either. But then, she’s not sure she has much of a choice. Breathe. In. Out. She relaxes her fist, millimetre by millimetre, until her palm is once more flat upon the tousled sheets.
“Must be pretty bad out there.” Her nonchalance sounds forced, even to her own ears. She takes one more deep breath, in– out– and opens her eyes, keeping her gaze fixed on the opposite wall, Clementine in her periphery. “You know. If they’re sending you, of all people.”
