Amy and Quinne Later that Morning
Amy sat with her bare bottom planted against the cold linoleum floor, legs partly splayed. She was breathing heavily from the excitement of mere seconds ago. Her arms propped up her shaking body behind her, though they were as unstable as the rest of her. Amy's fingers tensed against the floor; she took a deep breath and then relaxed, stretching her legs, her shoulders, her fingers. Quinne – the older woman who'd literally brought her to her fall – knelt down in front of Amy. She still had that mischievous grin on her face – the look of a girl…