*Emory*

A walk in the garden was meant to lift my spirits, but when I return to my room a few hours later, I find that it has done very little. As I come back to my room, I am reminded that at least I no longer have to fear having my throat ripped out while I’m out and about. That is something to be happy about, I suppose.

My hand goes to my neck, and I pause in front of the mirror to look at my scars. Helga and Nellie dismiss themselves into their own chambers, and I barely murmur a, “See you later,” as my fingers trace two...