“No,” she whispered. “Daddy said she feels uncomfortable around me.” She put the pad aside and sat back on her heels. “It’s okay. Daddy said it wasn’t my fault. I’m just not like her. She thinks I’m weird. I think your cut is clean. What else should I do?”

“Just put a couple gauze pads and tape across the wound. That will be fine until I get to a doctor.” She paused. “You did that very well, Kelly. Thank you.”

“I studied first aid at camp last year. Most of the other stuff was pretty dumb, but that was kind of neat. But this was different. Real blood.” She took the gauze from the package. “You could have done this yourself. You thought it would help me to do it.”

Smart girl. It was amazing that she had been able to see through Catherine’s subterfuge considering the shock she was suffering. And there was no doubt that she was hurting. The girl’s hands were shaking, and her blue eyes were wide and haunted. Everything about her seemed terribly fragile and childlike. She was delicately boned and appeared younger than her fourteen years. “Yes, I could have done it. But it was easier for me to have you do it. And if it helped you, too, that was a plus.” Her lips twisted. “And there’s not much that can be considered a plus in what happened tonight.”

“Or yesterday.” Kelly turned away and quickly snapped the first-aid kit shut. Her voice was muffled. “It was because of me he died, you know. He tried to keep Munoz from hurting me. Munoz came into the tent angry and shouting and he was saying that he’d been screwed and he was going to get his own back. He tore my clothes and-” Her voice broke.