I get down in the bed next to Liz and she immediately burrows against me, her cold hands moving under my vest and pressing against my skin. I endure it stoically; I want her to be comfortable and warm. My arms go around her, holding her close, and I tuck her small head under my chin. My khui sings a song of protest, but I am content. With Liz in my arms, the world outside does not matter at the moment.
