In other words, she looks as worried as Lucy.
It seems as though Mira and Liz are successfully working together—so far, at least. I wonder whether they bickered while in the Mind Dimension. Damn it. If I weren’t Inert, I could’ve been there to see for myself.
“I’m okay, Mom,” I say to Sara. “Please, sit.”
I try to project health and vitality—not an easy feat when you’re brimming with as much morphine (or was it oxycodone?) as I am.
“Those stupid bandages probably make me look worse than I actually am.” I figure telling them the truth doesn’t mean I need to burden Sara with the gory medical details about my ribs, concussion, ankle, et cetera. The truth is, physically, I am okay, or will be soon enough.
They sit down, and Lucy asks, “Did someone do this to you, or was it an accident?”
