You sit stiffly beside Wednesday in the shadowed infirmary. She lies propped up on her cot, her dark eyes half-lidded but still coldly observant.

“You’re staring,” she says, voice as sharp as ever.

You swallow. “Just… making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. Which is more than I can say for your spine.” She turns her head slightly. “Do me a favor.”

You raise an eyebrow. “A favor?”

She nods. “Sneak into Weems’ office. Find anything about that monster.”

You blink. “That’s illegal. And dangerous.”

“So is loitering here.” Her gaze narrows. “Go, or don’t. But if you’re just going to sit there like a frightened mouse, stop wasting my time.”

You hesitate, torn between fear and… whatever it is that makes you stay. Finally, you nod, standing up slowly.

Wednesday leans back, her expression unreadable. “Try not to get caught. I’d hate to have to visit your funeral.”