I swallow my guilt and take the opportunity to get up and look for what I need. I grab a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet. If there’s a good thing about murder cabins in the woods, it’s that there’s always a liquor cabinet. Then I grab my sewing kit.
When Matvey sees me come back with the supplies, he frowns. “Where did you even get that?”
“Thank Carmine. He saw fit to kidnap my bag, too.” I pour a generous amount of whiskey on the needle and thread, then hand it to Matvey. “Here. Sterilize the—”
But he’s already halfway through the bottle.
“ … wound. Never mind.”
As I give Matvey’s shoulder a booze bath, he keeps the baby safely tucked in his other arm. Not a single drop touches her, of alcohol or otherwise. In moments, she’s already fallen asleep.
He’s perfect with her, I
