***
Nineteen stitches. He had needed nineteen stitches.
Madelyn exhaled slowly, wiping the dampness from her brow with the sleeve of her dress. She pulled the needle through Mr Brand's skin for the last time and knotted the thread before completely cutting the extension. For a long moment she simply stared at her hands, scarcely believing what she had managed to do.
Willing herself to remain calm, she transferred all her instruments to the table then wiped her hands again before returning to him. Then she fixed his pillow, dabbed carefully on his brows, clearing the sweat that clung there. He was lying against the headboard, so white and still. He had finally passed, half way through her stitching.
