---
The five girls were still in the hall exactly where she had left them, but the mood had changed. Not visibly enough for fools. Enough for her. Water had arrived. Two trays rested on the side table under the window. Five cups. A clay pitcher. The girls had not rushed them. Good. Hunger and thirst that could still obey caution were easier to shape than panic.
The tallest one looked at Mira first.
Always that one.
Not because she was the strongest. Mira was not yet sure that she was. But because the others watched her without meaning to. Small things. A pause before speaking. A glance when the room changed. The way bodies angled in uncertainty. Leadership did not always arrive as courage. Sometimes it arrived as the shape other frightened people unconsciously organized around.
Mira said, "Drink."
No one moved at once.
That was almost amusing.
One of the girls, the one with dark hair and the faint green-black gloss in it, asked, "Why."
"Because you are thirsty."
