***
It was almost an hour before Georgianna sighed, slumping back on her heels. She reached up, about to rub her fingers wearily into her eyes when she realised that they were covered in blood. Pushing herself up, she stepped to the basin in the corner of the cell, twisting the tap until tepid water spurted angrily from the spout beneath.
“Med, what you doing?” Owain, one of the inmates, asked from his spot on the other side of the bars.
As soon as the lock had fallen into place after count, they’d come for Jace. They’d hurt him just enough so that it would be a long, painful death before he was found the next morning. Jace had not died before count thanks to the quiet help of a couple of the inmates, Owain included. However, from Owain’s constant quiet chatter, Georgianna had realised that most likely, those who had helped Jace might be the next to receive a visit once the block door slid closed.
Once her hands were clean, she turned to look at Owain, frowning when she saw his hopeful gaze.
“There’s nothing more for me to do,” she answered. “I’ve done all I can for the wounds, but he was left too long. Infection has gotten in. I only have two options now, to give him drugs to make it easier, or see if he can fight it off.”
“Give him the drugs,” he said slowly.
“You don’t…”
“Just give him the drugs!”
Finally, Georgianna nodded, crouching and digging into her bag for the small bag of pills she hated using most.