The funny blue bird that Felix said he was looking after for his brother waddled after them, trailing like a pet. She wore a floaty dress, one of her own designs, and early this morning she’d made a decision not to shave her hair again. She was going to grow it longer. Funny how liberated the decision made her feel. She’d even allowed herself to believe Felix when he said the general wouldn’t whisk her away to the medical facility. Felix reached for her hand and laced their fingers. The blue bird paused to peck at a patch of light-purple grass and let out a contented honk. She knew just how the bird felt. With the tracker gone, her fears had dispersed, the weight of the general’s expectation lifting off her shoulders. Though, while she felt more relaxed, the analytical part of her brain—the part that made her a good soldier—wouldn’t shut up with its niggling worries. It couldn’t be this easy. It couldn’t. Scarlett came running toward them, perfectly balanced on her new pair of Elsa shoes, her long black hair in its normal tight donut bun.
