I'm numb.
Moon leaves the room, and Carlo enters while Two Dogs whines at the door. The whining stops and I'm sure Moon pulled him away. I'm in my bathrobe with nothing on beneath. I should care but I don't. All I want is to lie back on the bed and sleep for the next twenty years.
Carlo moves quietly around me, setting out his instruments. We've been here before even if the circumstances were very different. He's not invading my space. Yet.
"It's good to know you're in better shape than your friend," he finally says.
I don't bother looking at him. I have several external bruises, possible bruised ribs, and a knot on my head. I'll live, and those injuries are unimportant right now. I've survived worse and Carlo was there to fix me then too. There's no fixing what's really wrong. It was
