She was cold. But not yet as cold as to move and reach for the blanket. There was no pain now. She could be a little cold if it meant she could stay the way she was and not feel the pain. The numbness that slowly crept over her body was almost comfortable. But she was cold. Increasingly so now that she noticed. She wished for somebody to be there. Somebody who would carefully wrap the blanket around her, so she wouldn't be forced to move. But the small motel room was empty and there was no one to cover her, no one to kiss her temples, no one to chase away the shadows.

The physical pain was definitely manageable now but was nearly constant. Perhaps that was why she was so exhausted all the time? Why every simple everyday task seemed took Herculean effort to achieve? She tried to recall the previous day and all its activities. She remembered brushing her teeth, but not her hair. She wasn't sure when was the last time she took a shower. Probably back at the hospital. She should take a shower. But not now. There was no pain right now. She liked that. True, she could get warm in the shower. But maybe she could think about something different and then she would stop feeling the cold.

What else did she do, hmm?

She had the TV on but didn't really watch it. There was a documentary on Palestine. Or was it Lebanon? Maybe she got it all wrong and it was about Australia? She must have fallen asleep, but if she had, she felt no more rested than before.

And then?

She cried.

She felt guilty.

She hurt.

She wanted Harm, but then she remembered he deserved much better.

She took a sadistic pleasure in throwing all of her pain medication into the toilet and flushing it down. It had nothing to do with any macho Marine pride and everything with the growing need of punishing her own body. The body that betrayed her so much.

She cried.

She thought she ate something but wasn't sure. She wasn't hungry these days.

The pain hit her more severely then.

She tried to call Harm. But all her troubles getting ahold of him on the carrier were for nothing. He never picked up.

She hung up.

She cried.

And now she was cold. So cold she no longer felt her toes and fingers. For a moment she tried to think if she could just fall asleep and never wake up, just like she might if she was lying in the snow somewhere. Maybe it would be for the best. But even though she was so damn cold the room was not nearly freezing enough for that. Instead, she would probably just get sick. Which would mean being just more trouble for other people. She has still not recovered from the shame and humiliation caused by her collapse in the courtroom. What must they think of her now? The jury, the judge and Sturgis? And the General, who held her hand in the ambulance and kept talking to her, soothed her as if she were a little girl? Her career was over. As was every other dream and ambition she had ever had.

She has finally gathered enough courage and energy to move. Slowly, carefully she braced herself on her arms, sitting up. No pain. She brought her legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand. There was a little discomfort in her back, but it was still good. Should she not try her luck and just get under the bed covers, or should she attempt to take that shower? Eventually, she decided she felt brave enough for the latter.

Too exhausted to punish herself even more in one day, she refrained from using scolding hot or ice-cold water. It took her over an hour to tend to herself. And when she finally made it back to bed she realized once again how pathetic she was. How alone. And that she deserved it.

She cried.

The sleep never came.