The heavy workshop door slid shut with a satisfying BWOOSH, sealing them off from the rest of the world.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, there were no colonels, no headmasters, and no staring crowds. It was just Jonah and Vanessa, alone in their sanctuary.
The weight of the last few days came crashing down on them both. Jonah flopped onto the small couch in the corner, his body feeling like a lead weight. Vanessa slumped against the workbench, looking like she'd been run over by a large troll and then asked to write a report about it.
"Okay," she said, her voice muffled by her hands as she rubbed her tired eyes.
"No more politics. For at least five minutes. Please."
Jonah managed a weak smile.
"Agreed."
He pushed himself up. He forgot his tiredness for a moment because of a more important need. He looked at the empty space in the center of the workshop, his mind replaying the Broodmother's desperate plea.
