As soon as she saw that Daniel was awake, she edged past Vlad and into the room, giving Vlad a look over her shoulder that urged him inside. She stood in front of Daniel at the edge of the bed, and she looked down at him. She could tell he was in a bad mood; it was written in the pain creased lines of his face and the way he held his body, taut and guarded.
Instead of saying anything, she just touched her fingers to the angry bruise, the touch almost air, almost nothing, and tears welled in her eyes. A moment later, she pushed the fever-dampened curls from his forehead, a repetition of something she'd done most of the night, and she bit her lip, the action accentuating the marks from Vaughn's fingers on her face.
"I'm sorry," she said, voice quiet and small and not loud enough to carry to Vlad in the doorway.