"I’m good, thanks." VA would have transplanted a toe, she knew, to use as a thumb, if he’d had a few. He could still get a donor thumb, if he’d just sign up and be ready to give it the time. Maybe a right foot that way, too. But there wouldn’t be any transplants for his right arm or left leg, because the stumps weren’t long enough. Something about needing a certain minimum length of the transplantee’s own nerves to splice. But whatever had happened to his mind, she suddenly knew in some different way, had been the worst. Because right now he seemed all smoothed out, could even pass for happy, and she guessed it was because he’d just killed four total strangers. She felt tears starting. Sat down fast, on the opposite end of the sofa from Burton.