Fawn's POV
“Loud,” I say. “Existential. I didn’t ascend to heaven or get abducted by aliens, so I guess we’re calling it a success.”
The transporter helps me back into bed. I do most of the work myself because this body can handle it and I’m weirdly proud of that.
Angela appears behind him like she teleported, clipboard in hand.
Did the woman ever go home?
My fingers curled under the blanket.
“How’d you go?” Angela asked.
“I didn’t run away,” I said. “Which is a shame because I’m pretty sure I could’ve made it to the vending machine before anyone stopped me.”
She smiled. “Radiology said you were a model patient.”
“Yeah, they all say that until I start talking,” I muttered.
When the orderly left, Angela hung around to take my vitals. Her hands were always gentle. I liked her more
