More than anything

Regan watches her, focusing more, because as soon as Greta's arm is gone, she wants it back. The way Greta picks her phone up, but doesn't write her a message. The way she wakes up her fingers, like she's the one that's been out in the cold.

"It's fine," she answers, sort of absently. It's not. Nothing's fine. But she doesn't know what else to say. She doesn't know how to do this. Her parents never said anything like this to her, after Beau.

They never really said anything. Nothing important, anyway. She reaches up to rub the tears from her face. They're cold against her palms, which must mean her fingers are warm, but they don't feel warm. Everything feels cold, still.

"I'll find her," she says, turning towards her a little. "I'll fix it. I'll find her and bring her back."

She doesn't know how, but she has to do this. She has to.