She shook the thought away and focused on the practical problem—her ankle.
Opening drawers and cabinets, she searched for the first-aid supplies. Minutes passed. Nothing.
Eventually, she remembered the spare medical kit that had once been placed in the guest room.
She made her way there slowly and crouched with difficulty to peer under the closet.
There it was.
Dusty. Forgotten.
Inside, she found only a small bottle of iodine—expired.
She hesitated, then took it anyway.
As she carried it back to the master bedroom, she noticed the guest room looked recently cleaned. The bed neatly made. Fresh sheets.
She didn’t let herself linger on that detail.
Back in the bedroom, she sat carefully on the edge of the bed and rolled up her pant leg.
The swelling had worsened. The skin stretched tight and angry.
She dabbed the cotton with iodine and pressed it gently to her ankle.
Pain exploded up her leg.
A sharp gasp escaped her before she could stop it.
“You shouldn’t be using that.”
The sudden voice made her freeze.
She looked up.
Nathanie stood at the doorway, a fresh bottle of herbal liniment in his hand.
“That iodine expired months ago,” he said, stepping inside. “Didn’t you check? You’re still so careless.”