Anya kept her eyes on Liam's hand, her expression tight, her mind clearly running through possibilities and none of them looking good. She had seen injuries before, bad ones too, but this didn't sit right with her at all. The way it looked, the speed at which it was changing, it didn't follow anything she understood.
She lifted her head and looked straight at him.
"If you don't do something about this," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully, "you might lose it. I'm serious. It might get amputated."
The words hung in the air, heavy, real.
Tatiana's grip on the wheel tightened again.
But Liam…
He just shook his head.
"No," he said calmly. "It will heal."
There was no hesitation in his voice.
No doubt.
Just certainty.
Anya stared at him for a second, trying to read his face, trying to see if he was bluffing, if he was just being stubborn, but she couldn't find it. He didn't look scared. He didn't look worried. If anything, he looked mildly annoyed.
