The sun was bright the next morning, but Harper felt anything but alive. She sat with Tyla on one of the stone benches by the quad, her books in a neat stack beside her but her shoulders slumped as if the weight of them had shifted into her bones. Her messy bun sagged, and her skin looked pale under the daylight.
"You're looking dull," Tyla muttered, leaning closer with narrowed eyes. She reached over and tugged a loose strand of Harper's hair playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "Like, corpse-dull. Girl, if we buried you right now, no one would even ask questions."
Harper rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She pulled her knees up on the bench and wrapped her arms around them. "Thanks, Ty. That's… comforting."
"I'm serious." Tyla leaned back, crossing her legs with dramatic flair. "You've been walking around like a zombie since yesterday. You need to eat, sleep, or at least fake a smile. You can't let them win by looking like this."
