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Recovery

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Sameen was terrible in the hospital: frightening nurses, arguing with Root's doctors, snapping at Harold when he overstayed visiting hours, and generally being a pain in everyone's ass.

Root didn't mind. Every time she opened her eyes, even for a few seconds, Shaw was there. Once she was fully conscious and the tube was out of her throat, she stroked Shaw's hand wrapped around hers and whispered in a hoarse voice.

"I knew you were here."

"Whatever," said Shaw, holding on tight. She took two of the chocolates Root couldn't eat, then spat them out. "Fucking Harold: that's Turkish Delight."