Seraphina
The woman at the front of the queue had brought her own clean cloth.
It rested folded on her knees while she held her swollen hand away from the bench.
Seraphina noticed it on her first trip through the waiting room.
On the second, the cloth was still folded.
On the third, the woman looked up.
"Am I in the right place?"
"Yes," Seraphina said.
That was all she could promise before Maelis called her back inside.
A student had arrived from a workshop with a fresh burn along the forearm. The first dressing had been done properly. The pain beneath it had not settled, and his fingers were beginning to resist the movement Maelis asked of them.
Seraphina stayed while they checked him.
He kept trying to apologize for taking the room.
"You can do that later," Maelis said. "Right now, tell me when the pressure changes."
He did.
By the time they had stabilized the injury and arranged the next check, the ordinary rotation was well behind.
Seraphina washed her hands.
