TWO WEEKS LATER
In the classroom, I put my pencil down and turn in the exam.
I still want to study law, for now. Not because my parents expect me to, but because I believe it's my path. Only I'm focusing on animal rights law and environmental law.
Stretching, I savor getting up from a wooden desk and a seat that feels like sheer rock. My human limbs wobble because I'm not used to them. Fortunately, any awkwardness can be attributed to being in a coma, despite recovering so quickly.
The pen and pencil slide into their case. Ah, to use tools with a firm grip. My handwriting is probably atrocious, but I check with the proctor to make sure it's legible. I refused the option to take the exam on computer. I wanted something tangible, not digital.
The proctor nods at me, acting as if it's perfectly normal for a student who almost died to retake an exam. Whistling, I pick up my briefcase and walk out.
