“I know, I know,” he said, sighing heavily. In the background, I could hear Mom sniffling still. “Just…be careful. And check in daily, okay? We know how you get when you’re on a case.”
 
 “I will,” I promised. “You’ll tell Mom?”
 
 "Yes you little brat. I’ll smooth it all over.”
 
 I grinned. “Thanks, Dad. Love you.”
 
 “Love you too, honey. Talk soon.”
 
 “Bye.”
 
 After hanging up, I gathered my discarded hospital clothes—the breathable, soft cotton shirt and sweatpants that I’d lived in for the last two weeks—and stuffed them into the hamper in the corner of the bathroom. I stepped out as a knock came at the door to my room.
 
 My doctor stood there, clipboard in his hand weighed down by paperwork—my file.
 
 “Miss McKay,” my doctor said. “Good to see you mobile.”
 
 I would’ve been mobile from the beginning, but you people refused to let me out of bed for longer than to go to the bathroom, I thought wryly.
 
 Actually, I hadn’t protested too much. Every step, even on the short path to and from the toilet, had ached fiercely while mybody healed. My movements were now easier and more free, if a bit reserved in deference to the shiny, delicate new skin on my back and side.
 
 “Yeah,” I said instead, pasting on a fake smile. “Feels great to be on my feet again.”
 
 “Good, good,” he mumbled, scanning my chart. “Any sharp pains? Burning sensations? Loss of feeling entirely?”
 
 I shook my head. “Just a dull ache in the wounds.”
 
 “That’s to be expected. Your burns are fully healed over, but the new skin is quite thin. It’ll take some time before that sensation fully dissipates.”
 
 “As long as I don’t have to endure the itching again,” I grumbled.
 
 The doctor laughed. “No, we’re well past that stage.”
 
 “Thank fuck.”
 
 Unperturbed, the doctor said, “Well, I wanted to bring your discharge paperwork. Once it’s all filled out, you can drop it off at the nurse’s station and make a plan for aftercare. Then you’re free to go.”
 
 “Great!” I exclaimed, sounding more excited than I felt. Before he turned to go, I thought of one final question. “And my bill? I know that’s not your area of expertise, but…”
 
 “The ladies at the nurse’s station will point you in the right direction.” He stepped toward me and extended his hand. “It’s been a pleasure leading your care team.”
 
 All I could do was nod for a moment as tears inexplicably pricked my eyes and stung my nose. When I collected myself, I said, “Thank you.”
 
 “I’d say anytime, but I don’t want to see you back here.”
 
 With a wink, he was gone.
 
 twelve
 
 . . .
 
 ASPEN
 
 Once the mountainof paperwork was completed, I passed it over to the nurses and shuffled to the first floor, where the billing department was.
 
 A woman with bright red hair waved me into her office, the sign next to the door telling me her name was Marjorie and she was the supervisor of the department.
 
 “Hello!” she said brightly when I entered. “What can I do for you?”