Stark naked, sitting on a long brown couch, my eyes went to my right hand, going over the pale skin of my forearm.
To the surprise of the woman, I had done away with the cast before we stepped off the plane.
There had been a lot of questions concerning the contrasting tone of my right hand with the rest of my body, its much lighter tone making it look sick.
I warded off their concerns with talks of special treatment having been administered to the limb, reassuring them, especially Lucy that I was alright.
The girl was aware of the procedure I had undergone back in Rome, but she was none the wiser of the warnings the doctors and Chiara had given before I left.
While the contents of my dream from the previous day still lingered in my head, I made a note and set it aside.
Now, I dealt with reality and wiggling my fingers, I gripped my fist tight.
