Jenna’s POV The world feels distant, as if I’m watching everything unfold from the outside. My side throbs, a constant reminder of the bullet lodged deep in my flesh. The cool air bites at my skin, but the pain is worse, gnawing at me like an animal digging in my gut. Eleanor kneels beside me, her fingers surprisingly gentle as she peels back the fabric of my shirt, exposing the wound. Her face is set in hard lines, but there’s a quiet intensity to her movements, as though she’s done this a hundred times before. I’ve seen her heal others, but I didn’t expect it to feel so... personal. “You’re lucky it didn’t hit anything vital,” she murmurs, her voice focused. She dabs the wound with a damp cloth, and I flinch, the coolness stinging like fire. “Just get it over with,” I mutter, the words escaping before I can stop them. Eleanor doesn’t respond, but I see her eyes flicker to my face, assessing the depth of my discomfort. She doesn’t push me to talk, just continues working, wh
Read more