Okay, he should have known better than trying to bullshit her when he couldn't even sit up straight without wincing, every breath an effort. If he had been wearing a shirt he might have gotten away with it...but as it was....he had nothing.
Nothing but the cool hands on his skin. Soothing as fingers slid up over his ribs, gentle enough that it didn't hurt, firm enough to feel the difference when he closed his eyes.
"Four," he whispered. His throat was dry, clicking as he swallowed. His voice was a little hoarse, sounding just as raw as he felt right now. He could bluff Destiny, could pretend everything was fine back home.
But here.
Alone.
Afraid.
It was easier to be truthful.
"I had to," he said, knowing it was a weak excuse.