My eyes traveled over the mangled, twisted throat of Leah Clearwater. Her hair was greasy and the skin of her neck was covered in a thick layer of the same black salve I had put on Sam. The common handmade cream was a staple within the tribe, used to ease of pain and to help with scarring. The white tee she wore was stretched too much around the collar and hung off her, almost hiding the denim shorts she was wearing underneath. Her eyebrows were knitted together as if she was angry but the tears in her eyes proved otherwise. I rushed over to her and grabbed her hand. She jerked, as if not expecting me to touch her and she opened her mouth only to look defeated and the tears slipped passed the waterline of her eyelids. I embraced her tightly, pulling her through the doorway and into the kitchen. Her arms stayed limp by her side. The boys behind me started murmuring at a more respectful volume as I stood there hugging Leah. It took a few moments but her arms finally came up to hug me back and she buried her face in my neck as she sobbed soundlessly. I rubbed her back soothingly and just held her. Seth came in behind her and I gave him a sympathetic tight lipped smile.
After a few minutes, Leah ended the embrace and pulled away, glaring at the floor.
"We'll work on it. We'll figure something out." I tried to reassure her. A breath much like a scoff passed between her lips before she went to the table to sit beside Paul. She pulled a plate from the pile and built it up with eggs and potatoes, leaving the harder foods like bacon untouched.
"Does it hurt to swallow?" I asked softly as I sat across from her, beside Sam.
She nodded as she ate slowly, her throat undulating as she winced in pain.
"Mom says after it's properly healed she might be able to get her to a surgeon to at least fix the swallowing part if it doesn't heal also. She can breathe fine but her voice box is likely permanently scarred." Seth explained as he slowly filled his plate.
As the rest of breakfast passed, the pack got livelier. Even Leah didn't seem too upset as her mind was taken off of the situation. Until she tried to speak, that is. By the third time, her fist came down on the table hard in frustration and all conversation stopped, everyone looking at her. I tried to avert my gaze as I cleared the dishes, I could see the tremors in her arms get worse, and I knew she was trying not to cause a scene. When she realized everyone stopped talking to look at her, she stood fluidly and stalked out the door. Jared followed after her, telling Sam he'd talk to her.