Dale drifted back off to sleep. He dreamt that Lyra was running from him, and he was chasing her, again and again. He finally began to stir when the morning’s light touched the bed. He was soaked in sweat, and his hospital johnny was uncomfortably twisted around his body. Something soft was relentlessly prodding him in the side, and he flailed for a moment before getting himself disentangled from the sheets.