Jonah’s hands keep working, sliding all the way down to the ends of my strands. “Still attached. She doesn’t know how much use he’ll have of it, though. He’ll definitely have a limp forever.” “She really is amazing,” I murmur, even as a troubling thought stirs. “Roy said he didn’t want a lame dog.” Jonah snorts. “Roy’s full of shit. He called her office, like, thirty seconds after we left his place and demanded she do whatever is necessary to save him. No cost was too high. And when Marie called him back with the news, he thanked her.”
