Faith clung desperately to your arm, her almost childlike fear of the medicine you were trying to administer to her slightly comical; if you look past the reasons behind her fear. Her gaze meets yours, her watery eyes portraying her inner turmoil. Whimpers leave her as the needle inches closer. Her grip tightens. ”It won’t hurt, right? No Bliss?” She inquires, paranoid that you’ll treat her just as Joseph did. ”No Bliss,” you assure, smiling at she reluctantly takes the medicine.