治愈者(11)
The ice girl shook her head. I have to be at the hospital, she said, I need my hand. She seemed uncomfortable. Her face was getting redder. She held on a second longer. I need my hand, she said. She let go.
The fire girl hung her head. Her hand blazed up in a second, twirling into turrets. I pictured her at the mountains again—that ribbon of pleasure, tasting Roy with her fingertips.
Ice whirled back around the other girl’s hand. She stepped back, and the color emptied out of her face.