"You did." She settles back as well, drawing her recovered arm along with her, treating it gingerly, like a fragile thing. She holds it in her lap for a moment, gazing down at it, then looks back at him.

"We're going out," she says. She feels giddy, ridiculous. She wants to do something stupid. She wants to have fun. "We're getting a couple bottles of something and whatever else piques our interest. Get up." She slides off her chair, moving toward the door, a little bit unsteady, re-acclimating to the feeling of having balanced sensation, no longer off-kilter.