Clara isn't quite sure she believes that yet, no matter how many people she's sure think it's better that she's out of the Arena now. It's not worth bringing up that she had plans to anyone at this point. "I guess," she says quietly. "I just wish someone more deserving had won."

Like one of the kids. Or Alex. Or Carlos. Or anyone other than her.

"Not really." As if it's almost out of reflex, she covers her cybernetic right hand with her left hand. "I'm lucky, Dr. Norton's known for being at the top of his field back home. Mostly I've just been trying to adjust to it." The way it feels is still astoundingly weird, more like an awareness that it's there and that it's doing things compared to the way her own hand felt. "Why do you ask?"