"I told you so," she snapped at me. Her face was burning red and she wasn't bothering to tilt her nose.
"What happened? Why did you bring him back to me?"
"His hand," she said, and took off.
Hand? He was holding one hand over the other. No! I grabbed his hands to see what it was.
One hand had obviously been bitten off at the wrist. He was holding the wound with the tentacles of his other little boneless hand. There was very little blood.
"It is as nothing," he said, but when I cradled him in my arms, I could feel him shaking all over.
"It will grow back," he said.
Would it?
I took him in the heli and held him while I drove. I could feel him trying to stop himself from shaking, but he couldn't.
"Does it hurt very much?" I asked.