"Well I would fuckin hope not," she says with unveiled disgust, looking him up and down. At least some part of him knows he's awful. That's a first. She wonders distantly if it's only because his internal self has been externalized - the chameleon is very much him, and maybe without her inside, Durant is unbalanced.

That, or the injury that had been alluded to. "What did he do to you, exactly?" she asks.