Mira North
Mira wakes up in the park. She doesn't remember going to sleep in the park. She'd have a headache if she'd been out drinking, but as far as she recalls last night the most wild activity she got up to was a bowl of ice cream. Maybe it's a joke? A hidden camera thing? She usually feels more tired when she wakes up.
Mira sits up and swings sideways to sit on the bench. There's no clank as she sets her leg down. There's sensation too, proper sensation, not the crude approximation her prosthetic game. She rolls up the legs on her new pyjamas, not even caring where they came from.
Two legs. Two actual, real legs. She touches them. Pinches them. Everything she can think of to prove that it's not a dream. There's not even a scar. Her tattoo didn't grow back though... in fact, the woven reed pattern around her other ankle is gone too. but it's a small price to pay for her leg back.
By the time another person reaches her, Mira is mostly finished weeping, and is getting to her feet, stretching her legs properly for the first time in years.