“I’m telling you; it doesn’t hurt.” Lena pauses between each word with a forced, patronizing clarity. “I just want to find the wires.”

“Lena.” Mitty collects herself, the fury in her chest only growing louder. “What are you talking about?”

“I know there are wires in there.” She presses her finger into the hole and Mitty winces.

“There are no wires, Lena,” Mitty says. “There’s blood.”

Lena’s attention snaps away from her body to Mitty. Her face is twisted with an adolescent impatience, angry about something she’d already deemed obvious. “Yes, I know,” she hisses. “Of course he would give me blood.”