Misty’s hands twitched. She wanted to fix something. That was her curse—the need to solve, to suture, to organize the chaos into a system where she was necessary. “The meat we smoked last week,” she said carefully. “If we ration—”
Van flipped another card. The Joker. She stared at it, then laughed—a real laugh, sharp and hollow. “Oh, perfect. Just perfect.” yellowjackets s03e08 msv
Shauna sat at the table, knife in hand, not carving. Just holding it. A habit now. The blade’s edge caught the flame, and for a second, her face looked like someone else’s. Someone older. Someone who had already done what they were all trying not to say out loud. Misty’s hands twitched