Annabelle, now sitting beside her brother, glanced briefly at his face, at his expression filled with guilt that seemed to be screaming "Sorry," and just tried to stay silent, but her heavy breathing from her earlier outburst and the persistent sniffling made it difficult to compose herself.
Most importantly, as she now held his hand with her trembling ones, she was once again struck by the thought of how much it must have hurt him, and the mere imagination of it was unbearable. Her eyes, which had seemed to stop shedding tears, unknowingly began to well up once again.
In the end, she stopped caring about her own state and focused entirely on him, moving her hands with the utmost care as she began treating his wound.
Time passed in silence, broken only by the sound of their breathing, his occasional stifled moans from the pain, and the soft movements of her hands, as she continued with unwavering focus until she finally finished.
