" She smiled at me and then cringed. “Oh, Abigail, your face!”
I reached a hand up and felt the cut. It was long and tender, but it wasn’t deep. Morwen had struck a line straight across the middle of my existing scar. Each investigation I pursued with Jackaby seemed to leave me with larger and more visible injuries. At this rate, I would be escalating to decapitation by our sixth or seventh case if I wasn’t careful. “I’ll live,” I said. “I’m sure it looks worse than it is. Really. "
― William Ritter , Ghostly Echoes (Jackaby, #3)