Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Let Me Treat Your Wounds

Drawn by the sudden noise, Martha Warren stepped out of the kitchen and froze when she saw Lydia collapse just inside the door, soaked and shaking.

"Lydia!" she rushed over, kneeling beside her. "What on earth happened to you?"

Lydia turned her head and saw Martha hurrying over, her face filled with worry as she reached out to support her.

Martha wasn't just a fellow worker at Halcyon Estate; she had helped raise Henry Lawson since he was a kid and was the only one who never looked down on Lydia-always treated her kindly.

"I'm fine," Lydia forced a small smile she hoped would be enough to ease Martha's worry.

Martha helped her to the sofa, fetched a towel, and gently patted her face dry.

She glanced at Lydia with quiet concern as she spoke. "You should be taking better care of yourself," she said softly. "Henry's been in a foul mood all day. Likely his leg acting up again with the weather turning."

Lydia lowered her eyes but said nothing.

Martha hesitated, then added, "If you're thinking of checking on him... maybe bring the medicine. Just-look after yourself, too."

Lydia gave a small nod, but her mind was already elsewhere.

Thinking back to the disgusted look on his face earlier that day, Lydia felt like she couldn't breathe.

Still, Lydia lifted her hands and signed, "I will. Thank you, Martha."

Martha didn't press her any further. She simply rested a hand on Lydia's arm, then turned and walked away.

After kneeling outside all night, being broken twice by Henry, and then losing the puppy... she'd cried until her body simply gave out.

The moment she got back to her room, she collapsed on her bed and passed out.

Later that night, Lydia sat up with a sudden shiver.

Her head was spinning, her throat was bone dry, and she had a bad feeling-yep, definitely catching something.

She was just about to look for cold medicine when she heard a car.

She paused, peeked outside, and saw Henry walking in through the snow.

She glanced at his leg and noticed the crutch. He only used that when the pain flared up.

So Martha had been right and this might really be a chance to calm things down between them.

In the end, she picked up the first-aid kit and headed to Henry's door.

She hesitated for a moment, then raised her hand and knocked.

Knock knock-

"Come in."

His voice came through, cold and clipped.

Lydia took a deep breath, turned the doorknob, and walked in.

The moment she stepped inside, her eyes widened in shock, and she nearly tripped.

Under the dim light, she spotted a leg lying on the floor. It was Henry's prosthetic.

A cold, mocking laugh rang out.

She turned her head and saw Henry wheeling himself toward her.

"What are you doing here?" His tone was dark, unreadable.

Trying not to look at the prosthetic again, she swallowed the nervous lump in her throat and held up the kit in her hands.

"The weather's been rough lately... thought your leg might be acting up, so I brought some stuff to help."

Henry gave her a long, hard look, then silently turned the wheelchair and rolled further into the room.

He didn't give a clear answer, leaving Lydia standing there awkwardly.

"You think just standing there's gonna fix it?" His voice snapped from inside, not too happy.

Lydia let out a breath of relief, then quickly followed him with the kit.

He was already half-seated on the bed, lifting his pant leg to expose the stump.

Over the years, his injury had always been off limits. Even Lydia, after almost a decade around him, had only caught a glimpse now and then.

And now, just like that, he was showing her, no guard whatsoever. The scarred, violent-looking wound lay bare before her.

One glance and Lydia's heart clutched tight. Eyes stinging slightly, she bit her lip.

She knew the cold and damp made it worse for him, but he never showed it. She hadn't realized his leg would swell this badly in rainy weather.

It must have hurt like hell all these years.

Quietly crouching down, Lydia's fingers trembled as she pulled out the medicine and began carefully applying it to the swollen skin.

Henry stared down at her, her pretty profile lit softly beneath the room's glow.

Her light, cautious touch, even the slight shake in her hand, made something stir faintly inside him.

The gentle graze of her fingers sent a strange, unfamiliar heat rising in his chest.