Page 159 of My Undead Love Life

“Yes,” she said. “Well. The world ended. I’m experimenting with generosity.”

Oxi studied her. “How’s that going?”

“Poorly, historically. Promisingly, today.”

I looked down at my stew. “Thank you.”

Sofia’s expression softened. “You’re welcome.”

Later, when the bowls were empty and the warmth had finally seeped into my bones enough that my shivering stopped, Sofia reappeared with more supplies.

She brought out a king-sized air mattress rolled tight in plastic, another smaller mattress, blankets, pillows, and a pump. “All sanitized,” she said, dropping them in a neat pile. “Set them up wherever you want. That section”—she pointed toward a more open area beyond the kitchen, near a wall of shelves and away from the lab stations—“is designated for sleeping. I’ll be in my room. I lock my door for safety. Not because I think you’ll murder me, but because statistically, people are unpredictable, and I enjoy remaining alive.”

Mad nodded. “Understandable.”

Luck looked at him. “You’re not offended by that?”

“No.”

“I’m a little offended.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

Sofia pointed toward a small red button mounted beside one of the doors. “If you need me, there’s a button you can press that will probably wake me up.”

“Probably?” I asked.

“I sleep with headphones sometimes.”

Oxi stared at her. “During the apocalypse?”

“I live underground behind three sealed doors and seventeen alarms.”

Luck lifted a finger. “Okay, that’s fair.”

Sofia glanced at him. “Also, keep that foot elevated.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

She blinked. She seemed briefly caught off guard by the title. Then, she cleared her throat and looked at me. “There’s clean water through that door. Bathroom beside it. No shower tonight because I don’t trust any of you not to fall over from exhaustion, but tomorrow, yes. Hygiene is not dead just because civilization had a dramatic collapse.”

My eyes prickled with heat. A shower. I couldn’t even process that.

“Thank you, Sofia,” I told her. The tears in my voice embarrassed me, but not enough to hide them.

She smiled and patted my shoulder awkwardly. “You’re welcome, Spencer.”

She turned and left us to set everything up slowly.

The air mattress inflated with a soft mechanical whir, and Luck watched it rise like it was a miracle. It felt like one.

“I forgot mattresses could be full of air,” he said.

Oxi spread a blanket over it. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen one.”

“Much better than a pile of coats and sleeping bags.”

This place felt safe and warm in a way that reminded me of our treehouse in the Oasis. Not because it looked anything like home because it didn’t. This was metal and glass and humming lights, not wood and rope bridges and leaves shifting in the wind. But safety was a commonplace.