“Oh my god, speaking of, you should see this.” Stephen sets down his stack of bandages and moves to start rummaging through one of the larger drawers of the desk. It’s a pivot which lets them both escape from these weightier, more emotional subjects, like pulling the ripcord on a parachute and bailing right out of there — but it’s also not only that. He thinks she might genuinely get a kick out of this.

Digging around, he finally finds a rolled-up paper. He hands it over.

“Please witness our first handwashing PSA poster. Edgard made it. I’ll be using his pain scale drawings, but this one’s for the recycling, unfortunately, and you’ll see why—”