"You are wounded, Amelia." Cameron's words caught Amelia's attention, and she looked at her hands, from where a trail of blood was rolling down her sleeves.
Her gaze was blank, as if she wasn't looking at her blood but someone else's, like it wasn't hurting her back with excruciating pain.
"I guess," She said.
Rather than walking to the laboratory like she wanted, she walked to the infirmary instead.
The familiar doctor who had treated her earlier looked at her with raised brows.
"What is it this time?" He asked.
The doctor has a faint smile, and Amelia found it a little peculiar.
Even though it was a familiar face, why did it feel like this person wasn't the man who treated her last time?
"My back," she didn't explain further.
The doctor nodded and asked her to sit on the stool.
As she sat on the stool, the doctor brought the first aid box.
"You'll have to take off your top or allow me to cut part of that cloth," The doctor said professionally.
