“I didn’t mind. It was a cold night,” I find myself saying. “It was fine.”
When she only buries her face even deeper in her hands, I take pity on her and change the subject.
“Your leg. How does it feel?”
She flexes it experimentally, and when she drops her hands to her sides, I see the surprise cross her features. “It’s much better. Like, significantly better.” She takes a few tentative steps. “The stiffness has almost completely disappeared.” She checks the wound, and her eyes widen. “How is this possible?” Her head whips up, delight and shock in her pretty eyes. “Look, Lucian! It’s gone. It’s practically gone!”
Her enthusiasm over something so small makes me have to fight the urge to smile in response. Her joy is infectious.
The improvement is remarkable—exactly what I hoped for wit
