Page 140 of Sexting the Pakhan

Dr. Mehra notices too, though she doesn’t say anything.

Ruslan barely reacts when she injects the local anesthetic. His hand grips the edge of the chair once, then relaxes.

Dr. Mehra glances at him. “You can admit that hurts.”

Ruslan says, “It hurts.”

“Good. Honesty saves time,” she says.

After a while, Dr. Mehra finishes stitching the wound and wraps his thigh with a clean bandage. “It’s not pretty, but it’s manageable,” she says. “The bullet passed through. No obvious major vessel damage. But this is not a small injury. He needs antibiotics, pain medication, and someone needs to watch for fever, increased bleeding, numbness, swelling, or any change in color below the wound.”

“I heard,” Ruslan says.

Dr. Mehra looks at him. “I’m not saying it for your entertainment.”

Karina makes a quiet sound.

Dr. Mehra points at Ruslan. “No walking unless necessary. No stairs. No pretending you’re fine. If the bleeding starts again, you go to a hospital.”

Ruslan says nothing.

Dr. Mehra says, “That requires an answer.”

Ruslan looks at her. “Understood.”

“Better,” she says.

She packs the used supplies into a bag and ties it tightly. Then she removes her gloves and washes her hands at the sink.

Karina follows her with a clean towel before she even asks. Dr. Mehra takes it from her. Their fingers brush. Karina looks away first.

Dr. Mehra checks on the girls before leaving the kitchen. She goes quietly into their room with me, listens to their breathing, checks their pulse, asks me if either of them hit their head, vomited, fainted, or complained of pain.

“No,” I say. “They were terrified, but not hurt.”

She nods. “They may have nightmares. They may be clingy tomorrow. Don’t force them to talk, but don’t pretend nothing happened either.”

“I know.”

Her face softens a little. “I know you do.”

When we return to the kitchen, Ruslan is still in the chair. Karina stands by the counter with her arms folded, watching him like she’s trying not to throw him out and trying not to ask him anything at the same time.

Dr. Mehra looks at Ruslan. “You need rest. I’m leaving medication instructions with Zoya.”

Ruslan says, “I have my own doctor.”

“I’m sure you do,” Dr. Mehra says. “But tonight you have me.”

For once, he doesn’t argue.

Karina walks Dr. Mehra toward the door, but Dr. Mehra doesn’t leave right away. Instead, she turns to me. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”

I glance at Ruslan. His eyes lift to mine.

I look away first. “Yes.”

We step into the hallway near the front door. Karina comes with us, but stays quiet, leaning against the wall with her arms still folded.