'Becky, ' murmurs Anya from beside her as she packs her things away. 'I 'm okay. '

Aware as she is that her best friend can read her thoughts, Becky still can 't get used to it. It 's akin to having a conversation she herself wasn 't included in from the start, though it 's odd to think about that way, since she 's the one prompting the conversation, just ' with her thoughts.

Truly, it 's bizarre.

But she doesn 't mind. She can 't fathom having a single thought she wouldn 't speak aloud, so really, it 's kind of nice that she can skip an entire step with Anya.

'It 's just hard to believe. You 're not acting like yourself! '

Anya frowns, but doesn 't respond as she makes her way to Damian. She trudges down the terraces as if she 's fighting a reel that Becky is winding. George Glooman settles into Anya 's former seat, but Becky is too fraught with reflection to greet him.