The pale wood of the table underneath made the wand stand out. It had scrapes and gouges one would expect for a table, well used and washed down often — a good table for a hospital. The small window showed a dark sky, and the light was dim in the tidy, bland sick room. A man was resting in a dull grey metal bed made up with white sheets in the center of the room. A woman with brown hair that curled almost audibly, freckled tan skin, and tightly clenched lips sat in a hard wooden chair next to the bed. She watched the man in the bed as his chest rose and fell, shallowly. His black hair was a thick, matted mess that had left faint red stains on the pillow. His face covered in purple bruises, and his skin had an unhealthy grey pallor to it. He was sweating; she didn’t need to feel his brow to know it was clammy. 