She moves to the hearth, reaches for the poker. The tip is orange.

We share a look. I nod.

Do it.

Sizzle.

White pain.

My flesh burns. I smell it.

I bite down.

Splinters in my mouth. Jaw aches. Vomit threatens.

I swallow.

She reaches for a roll of gauze. She binds it tightly around the stubs at the end of my foot.

We catch each other eyes – hers wide, fearful. Mine watering, tears rolling down my cheeks.

Both determined.

We look at the glass object on the counter.

"See if it fits."