“Fix me,” I gasped. I couldn’t tell where Jack was, and I was hurting enough that I couldn’t think to strategize. He hadn’t followed. “Fast!”
She touched my forehead, and I could feel the cuts knitting together.
Thank you. Now if you can fix the miasma damage, that’d be nice, but convincing you might take longer than we’ve got.
But there was another injury that wasn’t mending.
“The red miasma took away my ability to recognize people. I don’t know anything about the people I’m fighting. Fix my brain.”
“I don’t- I can’t.”
You really don’t have much choice at this point, Amy.
There are people who need you to do this.
“If you don’t fix me, Jack could win, and billions could die. If you don’t cure whatever it is that Bonesaw’s done with this miasma, I and tens of thousands of others could die of a degenerative brain disease.”
Seriously, Amy, I totally get your reluctance, but it really matters now.
“You don’t understand. I can’t cure brain damage.”
Still going with that lie?
I do suppose she doesn’t have any experience with it.
My heart fell.
“I- my- the last time I did it, the last time I broke my rules, everything fell apart. You’re asking me to do the exact same thing Jack was. To break my rules again.”
The difference is Taylor’s asking you to do it for good.
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