There's a scream in her, tight in her chest, but she refuses to give it voice. Refuses to make a sound, and aside from small flinches that she can't control, refuses to move.

"No," she says through clenched teeth, when he goes to push the needle through her skin for the second stitch. "You need..." She takes a breath, holds it, lets it out. "You need to tie off each stitch. Do them separately."