[Lydia's insistence that she's eating is met with a suitably dubious look from Allison, who rolls her eyes and scowls at the mention of surviving on infirmary food. It's not like it's bad, and it's not like she's been eating much of it because the pain keeps making her queasy.

The problem is the chill she can't shake...the memory of that nail buried in her body, how cold it felt inside...how cold she felt after, when there wasn't enough blood left in her own body to keep her warm. All she had was Scott's arms around her, and even that finally left her in the end...

She hasn't told anyone. She can't. But she can't seem to get warm enough, either.]

Fine. If you don't bring me tea or cocoa or something fattening we can both share, I'm not eating another bite for the rest of the day.

[Yes, she's four. She died. She'd rather it be trivial and funny than let her friends know how she truly feels.]