Gary woke up with the strange sensation that something had changed.

The pain was still there. That was unavoidable. But it no longer felt like an emergency siren screaming inside his skull. It had downgraded itself to a grumpy presence, sulking rather than rioting. Gary considered this a win.

He lay still for a moment, assessing. Jaw: sore. Head: fuzzy. Body: intact. No pliers involved. All positives.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, too bright and too honest. Gary groaned softly and rolled onto his side, immediately regretting it, then rolled back again, committing the layout of his bed to memory so he wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

His phone buzzed on the bedside table.

A message.

Morning. How’s the jaw?

Gary blinked at the screen longer than necessary.

Still attached, he typed back. Which feels like progress.

The reply came quickly.

Good. Antibiotics will help. You need to pick them up today.

Today. Right. Consequences day.

Gary sat up carefully and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Standing felt steadier than it had yesterday. That alone felt suspiciously adult.

He shuffled into the kitchen, filled the kettle, and stared at it while it boiled, wondering when his life had quietly transitioned into following instructions. It felt unfamiliar. Not unpleasant. Just strange.

Tea in hand, Gary leaned against the counter and let the steam fog his glasses slightly.

For the first time in days, maybe weeks, he felt like he wasn’t reacting anymore.

He was acting.

That scared him a bit.

Get the antibiotics and follow the plan → Page 57

Second-guess everything and delay → Page 18