You hook your brain up and surf the web at enormous speeds, downloading information to catch up on events since you had become sick(er).
Blood. Bleeding. Strawberries. Breaking. Falling apart.
You remember a little robot with artificial skin cut so flawlessly open across the little palm, bleeding, showing you what had happened so you could be the big sister and fix it but you never did you never could you FAILED ALL OF THEM—
You nearly flip your computer in a fit of rage but hastily remember it is hooked into your head.
You were going to have to warn them.