"Hey! Don't hurt your eyes," she says, reaching for his hand with her left hand. Rae would offer shielding of some sort, but her mind is too much a mess at the moment to try and clear it and summon up something.

The best she can do is holding up a magazine (Professional Baker's Quarterly) between his eyes and the majority of the lights.

"I've met Mia. She sometimes buys my cinnamon rolls."