The sting of antiseptic filled the sterile air of the small room, a faint reminder of the chaos that had unfolded earlier that day. You could still hear the sirens in the distance, a soundtrack that seemed to ebb away as you sat on the edge of the cot, staring down at the floor. The room felt heavy with the weight of silence between you and Tim, His dark eyes were focused on the bandages in his hands, deftly pulling strips of gauze one by one from the roll.

“Give me your hand.” It was the first words Tim had spoken to you in hours and they weren’t exactly pleasant to hear. His tone was flat and unyielding, but beneath it, you could sense the frustration simmering just below the surface.