Okay, it was damn fucking weird. Amazing. But there had to be an explanation. Miracles didn't really happen anymore. They didn't. Teeth didn't regrow, did they? There was an explanation. Chelsea really shouldn't be jeopardizing this second chance she had. But, damnit, there they were. Molly had brought over the wheelchair and she and Lisa were lifting the woman as much as they could. The three of them still had their injuries. Only Chelsea seems to have improved.
"Are your legs better?" Molly was asking as she tried to help one handed. "Perhaps medical examination is needed, if only to check that. If the Big Guy fixed you he may have done that as well. No more sticky-outy legs."
Molly still believed in miracles. They had ceased after the Apostles as far as Sean accepted. He didn’t believe in Lourdes, in Blessed springs or in the Virgin on toasted cheese. If God talked directly to you, it was schizophrenia. He believed in prayer, in indirect answers through explainable mediums.
“I don’t pretend to understand how your teeth came back, but PLEASE, be careful. Let a doctor see you. There’s an explanation somehow.” Sean didn’t want to see this as a temporary reprieve, either. The kid deserved better. “But will the facts fit into the box?” Molly looked at him with eyes too old for her.