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EYES, EVERYWHERE. HONORA couldn't escape the watchful, hopeful eyes of the crowd as they watched her fiddle around behind the renowned surgeon. Her face was hidden in the box, her hands shuffling through the array of instruments at hand. Desperation clung to her eyes. She'd never dreamed it would be like this.
While Jack rolled up his sleeves, staring down at Charlie's bloody leg, Honora searched the area. Anything. She could use almost anything. Why did that make it harder?
Charlie cried out in anguish, causing a permanent line to form at the top of Jack's head. "It's alright, Charlie," he said softly. "Honora, could you find me a-"
She stood up, holding a small wooden stick. Jack raised his brows. "Bone peg," he finished through a stolen breath. He took it from her. "Right."
Honora looked down at Charlie. Silently, she rubbed his shoulder.
"Now, if I get hanged for this, I'll haunt your every waking moment. I'll be the face you see in your nightmares, and trust me, you will only have nightmares." He looked at Belle as he spoke. She only raised a brow, crossing her arms.
Honora grabbed the ether from the table beside them. "If you ether the patient and actually begin the surgery," she muttered so quietly only those on the bottom floor could hear her. "You will not get hanged at all."
As he took the ether from her hands, his finger brushed her palm. Even without the anaesthetic weighing down her hands, they suddenly felt heavier.
"Respectfully," Jack whispered to her. "My life is on the line here, not yours. This has never been done in front of an audience before." They were so close he could make out the green speck of dust in her left eye.
Honora cleared her throat. "In 1845, Horace Wells failed to successfully use nitrous oxide to sedate his patient in front of a live crowd."
Jack looked down, fiddling with the contraption in his arms with a sigh. "Yes. Failed."
