Ok, I can figure this out. He gritted his teeth. I’m wearing a shirt that’s too small. I’m in a bed that’s too small. Did I wind up in the seven dwarves’ house? No, I’m too ugly to be Snow White, so that’s probably not it. I’ve got bandages and there’s a heart monitor, so I’m probably in a hospital . . . some sort of weird miniature hospital. Are there special midget hospitals? Probably not. My right arm doesn’t work right, so I must have tackled someone. He rolled his head to the right, away from the strange heart monitor. Even through his blurry vision, the shape stretched out across the chairs was instantly familiar. “Lyra?”