Greta grins at the compliment, then shrugs. "Magic," she says, as if that's explanation enough. Well, it's the only explanation she can really offer. Back home, it was just something to be borne, like the weather - or combatted, if at all possible. If it tended to leave their bakery alone, she imagines it was because the neighbor's house was far more interesting. But magic, generally speaking, wasn't all that outlandish.

Iman's arm is far more astonishing. Was. Is? Will be.

"Of course, dear," she says absently, getting to her feet and then pausing a moment to steady herself before heading for the end table and retrieving the phone. "Are you hungry?" she asks as she passes it down to Iman. Before her friend can even answer, she decides, "We should eat something. You sit tight and I'll see what I can find."