"Rassi, you don't get to choose who lives or dies, fate already did," Phoebe declared, holding a worn-out script in one hand, the other dramatically stretched toward the ceiling as she paced across their dorm room. "You just get to live with the aftermath!"
She spun, overacting with flair right in front of the dresser like it was center stage.
Megan clapped slowly from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, munching on a granola bar. "Okay, drama queen. Remind me again, are you acting or processing your own trauma?"
"Both," Phoebe replied with a wink, flipping her curls like she was in a shampoo ad. "Thank you, audience. I'll be here all day. Literally."
Merlina smiled from her bed by the window, her legs tucked under her. The sun filtered in, catching dust motes in the air, and for a moment, everything felt still. Peaceful, even.
