She can barely hear him, but figures that means it's okay to come in and starts pushing the door open, more than a little worried about what she'll find on the other side. She's carrying the first aid kit like a laptop case and the tray has various pain killers, a thermos of soup, and a bottle of water; more bottles are tucked into the outside of the bag.

It takes her a moment to look up and relief is clear in her expression. He looks more like her dad now and less like a wounded animal. Without talking she places the tray on a table and slips the first aid kit off her shoulder and onto the floor.