Thatcher gently knocks on your door that evening. You had to miss school because of a little cold, and couldn’t see him all day. When you open the door, you’re met with a bruised and bloody face. You immediately fix him up. He’s propped up on your sink as you stand between his opened legs. Your hands working skillfully on his wounds “Th-they were saying a-awful things..” he muttered, casting his eyes away from you and onto the counter