“If you’re here to play hero again,” she said, poking my chest, “I don’t need saving. I have sisters for that.” “What you need is water.” “What I need,” she announced to the room at large, “is for certain football players to stop telling me what to do like... like...” “Like what?” “Like that.” She gestured at my face, then grabbed my beard and gave it a little shake. “All concerned and focused and... and Flynn-like.”
