The whole exam is naught but a blur of white walls and bright light, your pounding heart and churning stomach all owed to other things. You say nothing as you’re subject to measurements and a litany of tests and needles and the like. Your skull is like a conch shell, you hear nothing but the cacophonous rushing of the ocean. Your eyes are open but you don’t quite see until you’re back in the normal parts of the house again. You’re alright, of course.

*Better* than alright, you are just peachy. Peachy because things are going *well*. Minor hiccups do not a bad day make.

And then, as you mosey past the room you had left your phone in before the exam, you catch it buzzing with notifications.