"Some personal effects, I think," she said. "Nothing major." The pad of her index finger drifted soft but firm over the worst of the wound. The flesh was discolored and puckered a bit, but thankfully no worse; in her time in trauma, Karin had seen a number of terrible third degree burns, often so terrible even skin grafts were limited in their usefulness. "Nothing of mine," she added, chuckling quietly. "I thought I heard something odd, is all. Maybe I heard whoever it was that came in and took those things. I guess I'll never know."
She shrugged, shaking her head. Into the rubbish bowl she tossed the ointment packet, now spent. She then retrieved fresh gauze and tape, and set to bandaging the wound. "It's a wonder we don't have on-site security, the rate things have been going."