She sneezed again, trying to make sense of why the two defective Reavers--Vampires, the new word echoed in her skull again, antiquated--had suddenly burst into flames. The smokey flakes up her nose were real, but her mind couldn't justify two simultaneous cases of spontaneous combustion without the influence of an outside factor.
There was a voice, asking the question she spent her days doing her best to avoid answering honestly, if at all. When she did answer, it was her voice, but her mouth was working the words the way someone else's was supposed to. Had.
"You gotta learn to recognize when life is bigger than you are. You're not a fighter. But that's okay, the world needs nurses, too." Her hands felt warm. She looked down at them.