Flor was out of bed, wearing a hospital gown, her hair ruffled up at the back because she’d had it on a pillow. A nurse was on her knees beside her.

“Don’t,” Candy said.

Flor didn’t budge, studying the room.

“It’s been a lousy night that’s only now getting better. Don’t make it suck again. They’ll shoot you.”

Flor looked around.

“I’ll play your friggin’ fashion princess video game with you,” Candy said. She indicated Darlene. “We’ll take turns playing it with you.”

“Hey,” Darlene said. “Jerk. Don’t volunteer me.”

But Flor backed down. The nurse scrambled away.

“I thought we said to cuff her to her bed,” Candy said.

“You also said not to touch her. It didn’t seem like she was going anywhere,” one of the heroes said, watching as Flor crawled back into her bed.

“She obviously did.”

Useless heroes.

Darlene was already pulling on her arm, dragging her out of the room.

They returned to the room. The hustle and bustle surrounding Chicken Little had died down, but some nurses were on either side of the bed. It was Candy’s turn to drag Darlene over to where Lookout was tapping away on her phone.

“Talking to the team?” Darlene asked. “Tell them thank you.”

“Talking to the team lawyer, Natalie,” Lookout said. “She says she’s suspicious I won’t be able to stay with my team. I’ve been hospitalized twice in a really short span of time.”

“Makes sense,” Darlene said.

“Yeah,” Lookout said. She smiled at Darlene. “Makes sense. I’ll figure something out.”

The smile was jarring, but Candy didn’t know what to say.

Darlene climbed up into the hospital bed beside Lookout, her attention largely on Chicken Little, who was still drugged asleep, and Lookout’s attention was on the screen, on her team. Candy sat at the end of the bed, being careful not to block Dar’s view, because tonight wasn’t a night for teasing. She adjusted the blanket at the foot of the bed to cover herself. The hospital was chilly, and cold air wafted in, seemingly through the single-pane windows.

Darlene was letting exhaustion overtake her. Her head rested on Lookout’s shoulder, and Lookout gave her a pat on the leg.

“We could make our own team,” Candy said. “You two, me, Chicken.”

“But—” Lookout said. “I’d be betraying people. Swansong—”

“Then we contract out,” Candy added. “Exclusively to one team. Maybe two. Cheat the system.”

“Maybe,” Lookout said, the smile dropping from her face. “Could work.”

Outside the window, Chicken Large screeched.

⊙

Narwhal watched as Undersider and Breakthrough climbed out of their vehicles. Government vehicles, by the color of the plates. Rides provided by the illustrious mayor of the unnamed city.

It had been hours now. The sun would rise in another few hours. Were it a warmer month, it would already be rising.