"You are still coming over."
Alan looked genuinely surprised when Amelia walked into his room carrying her medical kit, her hair tied back in that no-nonsense style that meant business.
"I thought you would be dead on your feet after today," Alan remarked, half teasing, half concerned, as his eyes followed her every move.
Amelia shot him a look, setting the kit down with brisk precision. "Hey, no weaseling out of treatment, mister. Your nerves do not take vacations, and neither do I."
Her tone was light, though the shadows beneath her eyes betrayed the long day she had endured. Still, she managed a small smile. "But since you were such a good sport with everything earlier, I will make this quick. Well, quickish."
Alan's lips twitched faintly at her teasing.
"Samuel," he called softly.
