“Jesus Christ, Mia," Katie exploded the second that she saw her friend on Monday afternoon. "You said it wasn’t that bad!”
“It’s not. Really. It looks way worse than it feels.”
“I’m very glad to hear that because it looks pretty f*****g bad.”
Mia closed her eyes, and called on her deep reserves of patience and genuine affection. She knew that Katie was scared and freaked out by what had happened to her and – in typical Katie fashion – it was coming out as anger and aggression. Despite knowing that, it was still a bit wearing and wearying. Mia smiled, though, since she was in actual fact, just fine.
Katie studied her friend’s face. God, Mia looked terrible. That bruise was black and purple, and she was favoring her shoulder a bit.
When Mia had called her the day before and told her wh
