The human brain has defenses against the unimaginable, and Lisle's brain was in full defensive mode.  The hand she looked down on, with its four stubs of digits, wasn't hers.  It was a dream - she was asleep and she would wake up back in that chilly cell.  Maybe she was even dying of the cold.  Her hands and feet felt cold and numb - that must have been it.<br/><br/>Then, there was warmth splashing on her, welcome and searing.  Warmth that chased away some of the cold.<br/><br/>"So - cold..." she slurred.  "Can't - feel - my hands..."