Hesitance was written clearly on the priest’s injured face as he considered it.

After a glance down at his hands… Malachi dipped his head in agreement.

“Alright,” he said, “you can help with my hands. And… you can wait outside while I do the rest, if you want. But please, Nettie, don’t let- all of this consume your day. I will be fine.”

He mustered more confidence into the assurance than he really felt.

Taking a seat at the table, Malachi pulled the bandages close and began unrolling them, but quickly stopped. It was harder than he’d thought, with every tiny movement of his fingers making them ache anew.

Sheepishly, he pushed the roll of bandages closer to his niece.