Really, cat ears?

Pierce gave me a knowing look, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You've had a rough go of it, Marlene," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of sympathy and stark realism. "Your friend's gone, you've been through a panic attack, and you've been hitting your implant hard all day. What you need now is some rest."

I stayed quiet, digesting his words. The cold morning air felt sharper with each breath, cutting through the numbness that enveloped me.

Pierce broke the silence, his voice low. "What about Tom's body? What should we do?"

I swallowed hard, the reality of Tom's death hitting me again. "He might not have deserved much in your eyes, but we should bury him with respect. He was my firend." I murmured, feeling a sense of duty to the man who had suffered so much.