Sometimes, Annabelle would give him full body hugs, usually briefly, under the blankets to unnerve him—Susan used to laugh. She's never embraced someone sincerely; her heart has never been in her touch. Not with Lauren, anyway. She'd felt things with Susan, cradling him and petting his wild hair out of his face with her bony fingers. For the first time, she feels like she needs this.

She wants to counter by saying that all the fire has left her, but she realizes it wouldn't be helpful. She sniffles a little.

"Well, you're soggy," she retorts quietly, meaning it with humor, but unable to smile. She hooks her legs with his, and she gets goosebumps from the temperature contact. "—and so warm. Almost hot."

Moments ago, Susan was so cold. Enough to make her fingers numb. Her fingers pull the fabric of his shirt, tensing with agony.