INNANA'S P.O.V
" what are you doing?" The girl I met on my first day in the kitchen that I now know as Lana, exclaims with concern.
I turn to her, not knowing the cause of the panic in her voice. She lifts my left hand, that is unknowingly oozing thick, red blood, drawing my attention to the cut at the tip of my middle finger. The blood on the knife in my right hand tells me all I need to know.
" What were you thinking of huh?" She asks, then puts my bleeding finger under the running tap to wash away the blood. But, I don't feel the slightest of pain or even a sting from it.
She pulls out a first aid kit from one of the kitchen cabinets, cleans the wound and puts a band aid on it.
She gives me a stern, no nonsense look, with her hand on her waist. She would make an excellent mother -
