"Darn, I'll have to cancel my registration in that 5k I signed up for," she says with a wry smile, testing her balance to find it much improved from the previous evening (not, she figures, that improvement from that level would be difficult). "Terrible timing."

Without thought, a familiar, automatic movement, Sunshine's free hand ghosts over where her right-front pocket would be were she wearing jeans. The pajamas she's been provided are comfortable, thankfully not putting too much pressure or friction against where the bandages cover her, but they don't have pockets. Not finding what she hadn't been aware she'd been looking for, her hand then moves to her throat.

"Do you know what happened to... I had a necklace and a pocketknife with me last night."