She did see the wound, and she flinched away from the red angry blotch, forcing back tears. She didn't want to think about it, but she did. She thought about how you didn't get a cut like that if you just dropped a piece of glass. She thought about how there would be more wounds than just the one, jagged scrape if you happened to be standing in front of a window or mirror when it shattered. She thought about how you'd have to be focused, to want to cause that kind of pain to yourself, to get a kind of wound like that, and how could anyone possibly be that sad?
She didn't want to stay, she didn't want to think about it, and she was grateful when Simon gave her an out, nodding her head. "Should I... should he..." she started to stammer, suddenly aware and finding the presence of mind to realize that maybe this wasn't something Mal needed to know about. Maybe they should just get Jaime fixed up and... pretend like the window had shattered. Mal wouldn't want to know that Jaime was still this sad, would he? But he needed to, didn't he?