I almost took a half step back out of pure instinct. She looked like warmed over crap the hospital chewed up and spit out again. Though I figured from her appearance she hadn't left treatment with permission.

"Pain." My first reaction faded quickly as I took in the dirty robe and the slippers on her feet, same industrial hospital issue. Her hair was a tangled mass held back by a large elastic, bits and pieces clinging in greasy strands to her cheeks and forehead. The skin ...