STITCHES AND SECRETSSOFIA POVNikolai found a medical kit in the trunk of the car, the kind built for gunshot wounds and not paper cuts, and he carried Alessio inside the safehouse like he weighed nothing. I followed close behind with my hands still shaking, still sticky with his blood."Lay him on the table," I said. "We need light."Nikolai looked at me like I had grown a second head. "You know how to do this?""No." I was already rolling up my sleeves. "But I'm the only one here with steady enough hands to try, so unless you want to do it, get me hot water and whatever's in that kit."He didn't argue after that.The safehouse was small and bare, one room with a mattress in the corner and a kitchen table that became the only surgery I had ever performed in my life. Alessio was unconscious, chest rising and falling too fast, skin pale under the single bulb hanging above us. I cut his shirt open with trembling hands and found the wound, a deep graze along his ribs, torn and angry and
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