There's an unsettling moment where Lila's dragged back to her childhood. Of being five and ill in bed, her mother bringing her food on a tray, just like this. It's only a moment, and it passes, but it leaves her feeling hollow out afterward.

Her mouth quirks at Kell's comment, brought forcefully, gratefully back to the present. "Nothing broken, I don't think. Just banged up." She tongues at her lower lip, tasting a hint of blood. "I wouldn't mind if you could fix this cut, though," she says, eyebrows drawn in question.