There isn't even a blood stain. Just a sliced night gown and a puckered bit of healing skin. Gerry won't see it, but the little threads of black 'sewing' the flesh back together... well. She isn't seeing it.

"I'm here to visit. Why shouldn't you be?" Now she turns to the blonde girl, expression vaguely curious. "You're not like the rest of God's little infants, are you? Well-" She muses, stepping closer. "You are, just ... tweaked."