The doctor gently applied a layer of cooling cream over the burn, and Freya flinched as the cold touch met the raw heat of her skin. "This will help the pain," he said more softly this time. "But you'll need to change the dressing daily and avoid getting it wet."
Freya nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you, doctor."
The man sighed again, his expression softening when he noticed her trembling shoulders. "You're very young," he murmured, almost to himself. "Take better care of yourself, alright? Work can wait, your health can't."
Freya gave a small, shaky nod. As she stepped out of the clinic into the quiet evening, the sky was streaked with gold and gray. She held her injured arm close, feeling the cream cool her skin while her heart burned quietly inside her chest.
She wanted to cry, but she didn't. She just kept walking, the soft wind brushing against her face, carrying away the faint smell of medicine but not the ache in her heart.
