Fuck, it smarted. It felt like it was bleeding, but when Fanny touched her leg it her glove came back dry. Her breaths came in rasps, heavy – impeded. Was this how she died? In the middle of the street, like she always figured she would back when she worked it?

Fanny coughed, spat (clear), moved her leg and gritted her teeth. Wasn’t broken, probably. Catching her breath, however …

The constable jutted his chin with bared teeth when the boy came to tower over his, breath rattling through. But the moment he said “doctor,” his eyes widened in a second of unbridled terror.

“No!” he wheezed, hands flying up to his chest. “Get-- get lost!”