The twin mattress in Stone's observation room had become home. I woke there, studied there, fell asleep to the sound of his breathing through the barrier. The bed in my dorm room felt foreign now — too soft, too far from him, too quiet without the hum of medical equipment and the steady pulse of our bond.
Ivy had stopped asking when I'd be back. She just left notes on my pillow:Eat something. I covered for you with Professor Larkin.
I read them when I stumbled in for fresh clothes. Left them unanswered.
"Lumi."
Professor Tomlinson's voice cut through the fog in my brain. I blinked, realized I'd been staring at the same page of my textbook for the past ten minutes. The words had stopped making sense somewhere around page three.
"Yes?"
"Class ended five minutes ago."
I looked around. The lecture hall was empty. Students had filtered out while I sat here, lost in the grey static that had replaced my thoughts.
"Right." I gathered my books with hands that trembled slightly. "Sorry. I was just—"
"You were sleeping with your eyes open." Tomlinson's voice was dry. "A useful skill, but perhaps not during my lectures. Do you need to come back and have dinner with us so you get a full night's rest?"
Heat crept up my neck. "No, I fine—"
"Go home. Eat something. Sleep somewhere that isn't a chair or I will tell Rae." He paused at the door. "The ferals will still need you tomorrow. They won't need you at all if you collapse."
He left before I could respond.
I sat in the empty lecture hall for another five minutes, trying to gather enough energy to stand.
Ivy was waiting outside.
She fell into step beside me without a word, her presence a familiar comfort even through the exhaustion. We walked in silence for a while — past the library, past the dining hall where the smell of food made my stomach turn, past the clusters of students who parted around us like water around stones.
"You look like death," Ivy said finally.
"Thanks."
"I mean it." She caught my arm, pulled me to a stop. Her eyes swept over me — the shadows under my eyes, the way my clothes hung loose, the tremor in my hands I couldn't quite hide. "When did you last eat? And don't say the granola bar from the vending machine, because I know that's all you've had in two days."
I tried to remember. The oatmeal Neal had brought. That had been... yesterday? The day before?
"I've been busy."
"You've been killing yourself." Ivy's voice was sharp.
She stepped closer, her expression softening. "Lumi. Look at me."
I did. It took more effort than it should have.
"I don't know what's happening in that building," she said quietly. "I don't understand half of what you're doing or why. But I know you. I know you'll run yourself into the ground for people you love." She squeezed my arm. "I'm asking you — as your friend, as someone who cares about you — please stop. Just for a day. Let someone else carry the weight."
My throat tightened. "I can't."
"You can. You're choosing not to." Her jaw hardened. "And if you won't choose differently, I'll make the choice for you. I'll call Rae. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you from—"
"Ivy." My voice cracked. "Please. I just need to get through the next three weeks. Then I'll rest. I promise."
She stared at me for a long moment. Whatever she saw made her shoulders sag.
"Three weeks," she said. "And then I'm dragging you to our dorm and force-feeding you chocolate until you remember what it feels like to be human."
