monday? four?

from where the firelight fades, and I am declining to specify which upcoming chapter:

"Trixx, let's pounce," Alya murmurs in the shelter of two pairs of legs and Carapace's shield, and Rena Rouge stands up for Pegasé to take their place, so no one will see more of him recharging than a flare of blue light. Not that anyone's really looking, Rena's pretty sure: the people whose chairs face either cluster of heroes are pointedly intent on their phones ("twelfth time's the charm?" mutters one, raising his phone to his ear), or their neighbors ("—just like the purple devil, wouldn't it, to frame somebody?" says one; another begins "do you think Ladybug's really—" and stops dead), or the news ticker (een Bee: seeking them out "an utterly awful way to thank) over TVi replaying aerial footage of the fog-shrouded Shellter dome. A few more are watching the emergency department's waiting room exit: a teenage boy Rena half-recognizes comes out and is immediately engulfed by a sobbing woman chanting "al-Ḥamdu lillāh, al-Ḥamdu lillāh," who might be his mother.

Which means no one is willing to notice the tear tracks forming down Rena's cheeks.

(in a stunning display of irony, if I had been more willing to be patient enough to update where the firelight fades once a week, stalling the last few chapters until I have them all at least entirely drafted and looking like a story would not have resulted in a two-month break between chapters)