EVENTUALLY LUMP WAS MISSING for long enough that we made our way back to the rec hall. Each time I blinked I dreamed of Lump running through the freezing night surrounded by hungry animals with frothing mouths.
At 12:05 I swallowed three No-Snooze pills and, at 12:08, two shapes moved past the window by the door. They’d whisked through my peripheral vision and were standing behind the door like they were discussing some pre-entrance plan. I blinked, and when the door opened Lump came rushing through, exhausted and cold and freshly bandaged but wildly alive and frantically needing to tell her adventure story, but then I blinked again and it was just Test outlined in the doorway against the cold afternoon wind.
He had her muddy, dripping aviator hat.