"Oh, that sounds especially lucky," Karen says, at least attempting to feign seriousness, as if she doesn't know this story, as if she isn't one of its central figures. It's difficult to succeed in, though, when she can't even bother trying to hide the way she watches John undress, her smile turning a little sly as more skin gets exposed.

Recounting her own arrival seems like it would be too dark, though, and fairly irrelevant, all things considered. She was here before John was; it's the very reason she was the one who found him at all.

"About as lucky as finding a stranger with a gunshot wound and hypothermia, thinking you probably shouldn't trust him, and taking a chance on doing it anyway. Even lying to some doctors and buying him a balloon in the hospital gift shop to really sell it."