My God, Nathaniel whispered. I took Damian's hand, and the moment we touched that, too, ceased to hurt. The sleeve of my jacket was a bloody mess, and I hadn't noticed until now. Is it getting colder outside? I shook my head.
Anita, you're being deliberately difficult about this. We'd thought it hadn't worked because of the trauma of the murder, or that the animators doing it weren't powerful enough, but that wasn't it. The first bad thing was that Damian was getting slowly to his feet. I agreed with Mendez.
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