Page 350 of End Game

He points toward the Dexcom without getting close enough to touch it. “No rope directly over it. Nothing sitting where it's likely to migrate onto it. Don't catch the adhesive edge.”

Then the Pod.

“Same principle here.”

Cami nods. “My bigger question is whether there are better places for me to put the Pod if I know we're doing this.”

Drake considers that. “There isn't one universal rope-friendly site. You still use sites approved for your system, rotate them properly, and make sure your equipment works the way it is supposed to.”

“Right.”

“But if you know you're practicing a torso pattern all week and you're due for a Pod change, don't intentionally put a fresh one directly under the place you expect rope to run.”

Cami laughs. “That seems obvious when you say it.”

“You'd be surprised.”

I don't think he's joking.

“What about thighs?” she asks. “I use those fairly often.”

“Depends on the rope. That's the point. Some days the thigh might be perfect. Other days it might be exactly where you need clear space.”

He looks between the three of us. “You look at the body she has that day. Devices included.”

Cami points at him. “I like that.”

“So do I,” I say.

Drake looks at me. “If the rope pattern you planned conflicts with her devices?”

“We change the rope pattern.”

“Correct.” No hesitation.

Drake has her move through a few simple motions first—checking her range of motion.

Arms up.

Shoulders rotating.

Hands opening and closing.

Establishing what normal feels like before anything changes.

Then he puts rope on her.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing remotely resembling the photographs on the walls.

Both arms together in front of her.

A simple, non-load-bearing demonstration meant to show us what appropriate contact and tension feel like on an actual person.

He keeps talking to Cami.

“What do you feel?”