Pearl's grip loosens, letting Rose take the cup without protest. Not knowing what else to do with her hands, she lets them fall into her lap, fingers twisting around each other. Her lips move almost without volition, shaping the word.

"What?"

She was so cold, fifteen minutes ago: she thinks she'll never be cold again. Is that Rose's body heat that swirls across her skin, or something else? It smoulders through her, all the way from her nose down to the tips of her toes.