His boot prompted absolutely nothing at all. No vibe, no innate feeling, no indication of what it hid. His questions, though, roused Sadie only enough to murmur up to him with eyes closed. Sadie realized, somehow, that she was watching the scene from above -- some disembodied viewing of herself in the doctor/vicar's arms. She couldn't make herself do anything else; her body felt as if it were sculpted from lead.
"Who are you," but her words came from her mouth, not from her vantage point.