“Marina, are you okay?” a familiar voice filled with worry came from nearby. Yar leaned over me, and his light curls swung down onto my face. “You’re beautiful—can’t deny it.”
“I’m fine,” I lied as I sat up. “Winter, damn it!”
“Oh, you shouldn’t!” Yar replied, holding out his hand. Reluctantly, I accepted his help and stood up. “Mm-hm. Slippery sidewalks and impossible wishes,” I said gloomily, finishing the thought. “They’ll stop being like that as soon as you make a wish.”