Corrie's remained steady too, from nothing so much as the stubborn clenching of her muscles. Her left hand was so tense she knew it'd be sore the next day - probably the next few days. But there wasn't anything she could do about that. It could join the list of things that would be hurting for a while.
They worked in relative silence together for some time. She wanted to talk, but she couldn't spare the concentration. But finally the last splinter was out, and she looked at her hole-filled hand and then at the neat little pile of slivers on the small table, and let out a short, soft laugh, more like a bark, or a cough, or a sigh. "Okay," she said. "Now?"