Sitting on her bed, Luna fought her worst theories one by one. She wielded the benefit of the doubt's sword, saying it's too soon to assume the worst. First foe down. Maybe he made it out, after all, she argued. Her enemy changed their mind: Yes, he had a chance to run away when the wolf chased after her. This thought granted relief, if only a temporary one. Though she jolted awake again and again while chasing sleep, she at last managed to doze off for a few hours.
The sun rose too soon, and the bird orchestra was already celebrating the morning she wasn't ready for. A morning that was like every other in technical terms: her farm partook in photosynthesis and the house was as silent as usual.

 

And there it was, the car's rear sticking out, symbolizing nothing was as usual; that her ordinary life was in jeopardy. Hometown authorities should be alerted... but how could she explain why they were there in the first place? The government would open an investigation and throw him in prison, without the possibility of returning to his job. He didn't need to be deeper in trouble. There was indeed one trustworthy authority figure, though. Marnie. Nervousness was a luxury no one could afford when a human life was in danger. She checked a little clock on the nightstand, a gift from her mother — clocks were one of the few mechanical
pieces allowed and were powered by sunlight. Half an hour until the train left.

No suitcase in hand and still wearing yesterday's clothes, she walked to the station taking short steps. In Hometown, all villagers were required to wear government-issued uniforms for mundane activities, one assigned for each day of the week. Which means she risked being penalized for showing up without the purple Tuesday uniform — but she wasn't in the mental state that made her afraid of breaking the law.