Evening came faster than I wanted it to.
I dressed in the black t-shirt Miss Brown had brought, checked the room once the way the plain had taught me, force of habit, and stepped out.
I knocked on Sherry's door.
"Almost," she called through it.
I waited. She came out.
Black tall body stockings, short black skirt, white shirt tucked in, hair as it always was. The same things she wore most days. It still caught me off guard, which said something about either her or me, and I had chosen not to examine which.
We walked to the briefing hall together.
***
The hall had dry erase boards, maps pinned at angles, chairs arranged in a semicircle with the organized urgency of a plan that had been pulled together faster than was comfortable. A man I hadn't seen before stood at the front, nondescript in the specific way of people who worked at being nondescript.
Wells and Annabelle were already seated. Mute's chair was empty.
