In return he gets a smile, another nod of understanding as the next pump slows, committing the orientation of her limbs to memory, feeling for any subtle differences that will clue her in to improper form in the future.

A year is both longer and shorter than she'd have expected. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't interrupt. He's alive and not missing any limbs, so she feels comfortable guessing the broad strokes of those fights.

"What happened after that?" She continues. "Once you hit the top."