The door pushes open, and Michelle walks into the room. There's barely any sign of wear and tear on her: even the crack on her face is almost invisible now.
"How's it going?" she asks, leaning against the door frame.
You shrug, sitting back down on the bed.
"The werewolves were asking how you were doing," Michelle says. "Reflection's not a particular skill of theirs: not much use when it comes to the pack mentality, I guess."
You nod your head, letting out a sigh. "I'll be okay. Just…a lot happened."
"Makes sense," the zombie replies. "I think anyone would need a few days."
"How are things out there?" you ask. "How is…everything?"
Michelle slides down the door, lowering herself onto the floor. "Our fate is currently being decided," she says. "They're deciding whether or not to shut us down. Which," she adds after a moment, "does make sense, considering whose deputy headmistress almost kick-started the apocalypse. Still, St. Mary's have gone to bat for us. I guess they really bought into the whole 'saving the world' thing." She pats your arm. "Nothing's decided yet."
No, you agree silently. Nothing is decided.
"Anyway," Michelle says after a while, "you need to eat something. Important thing to remember for the living. Come on."
You change into your uniform as Michelle waits with exaggerated impatience, then you let her lead you out of the dormitories.
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