“Are they all on meds?” Britta asked, staring at the empty hallway. “I’m not,” Max said from behind them. Berg and Britta turned to face Charlie’s middle sister and, together, brother and sister screamed and stepped away from her. “Dear God, Max! What happened to your face?” Berg hysterically asked. She shrugged, the quills in her face wiggling when she did. “A porcupine attacked me. Flung its quills at me.” She glanced around, seemingly not bothered by the many—many—quills hanging from her face like some weird, horrifying mask. “Charlie around?” “She’s meditating.” “Oh. I’ll wait. She knows
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