It is finished. Sheydra should know what to do. As for me, what now?

I don’t know.

The visual on the cortex screen implodes into a faintly throbbing white dot that I find I cannot take my eyes from. I tell myself that the long hours of scrubbing paint off the hull has made me lethargic, hence the slow, purposeless movement. Meandering through the ship, like a sleepwalker. Promising to do this or that- help Jayne with dinner, restock the kitchen supplies with Kaylee and Simon, mend River’s dress- but accomplishing nothing as yet. Even as the hot, savory smell of frying noodles wafts into the shuttle, I am careless and remain stuck, focused on a throbbing white dot.

I imagine my message a comet, sent fast and blazing to the training house. Portents of death they were in earth-that was; when they flew past people gazed skywards with trepidation. And from where I aimed, it flew away so fast that the white dot of its tail is all that is left apparent. Portent of death.

#shut up foolish girl# you were always so melodramatic, Inara. Look at your face, your nails! You have red paint all down the front of … #merciful Buddha# Have you lost all control?

“Inara, It’s chow time woman!”

Jayne’s invitation forces me out of the shuttle that is no longer mine to hide in. I calculate the best route to get to the passenger dorms so as best not to be seen. As a ghost I’ll be. My appearance is bound to frighten anyone caught unawares.

There, door’s shut. No losing face. I can wash up and join the others after. I see River knows of my predicament- another simple dress of hers is laid on the bed for me to wear. Thank you my darling sister, my savior, I know you can hear me. I will make this up to you, but if you keep lending me your clothes I will stretch or rip them. Although… not this one…you clever little mind reader…and I love this blue.

There is no time for make-up. After all that work, it feels nice to be scrubbed clean. Looking in the mirror, there was a time I would have said, “Here is