15 | The Heir

◇ KEL ◇ 

Face and neck damp with sweat, I glanced to the other fully conscious person in the room. I opened the door wider and quietly stepped in.

Ricchar watched his wife closely as he rested on the wrinkled comforter. Then he looked at me when I stayed slouching by the door.  "Grazie."

His wife remained still on the single bed. Cloe's face and extremities were no longer covered in her own blood. The exhaustion had knocked her out before her wounds got stitched and bandaged carefully—I had to stitch up the biggest ones to ward off infections.

Ricchar and the guards trusted my first aid skills and training enough to let me do whatever I thought would help Cloe best.  To our advantage, the Falcos' former medical staff had stocked first aid drugs and enough medical supplies in the mansion's basement, vital in cases such as this. The cold, dry basement was perfect for stocking emergency meds and supplies.