I grabbed a bottle of iodine and some gauze sponges from the bag.

“I need hot water,” I said.

“There is no time for that,” Leo said without looking up from his phone.

“Do what you can with what is there.”

I returned to Dominic’s side.

I knelt down on the rug, placing the gauze and iodine on the floor beside him.

The babies were resting quietly in the crook of my arm, their weight a constant reminder of what was at stake.

“This is going to hurt,” I whispered to Dominic.

He gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

I poured the iodine directly onto the wound.

Dominic gasped, his entire body tensing as the orange liquid burned into the torn flesh.

His hand reached out blindly and gripped my wrist.

His grip was surprisingly strong for a dying man.

“I have something for you,” I whispered, leaning in close so the guard couldn’t hear.

“You have to hold it.”

“You have to be ready.”

Under the cover of the wide gauze pad, I reached into my pocket.

My fingers found the scalpel.