Given a task to do, Evey nodded and set about doing it. The walk to her bedroom was short and quickly done. The room itself could have been anyone's, but for the small pad of paper and a pencil on the dresser. Other than that, at first glance, there was nothing that made the room personal. It was... just a room.
But, when Evey dropped onto the edge of the bed, it was clear that there was something else. A small pencil sketch was pinned to the wall just at the level of the mattress. It was a strange thing, but carefully rendered by a hand that was clearly not familiar with artistry. The lines were clunky and awkward, and the shading was wrong. But it was identifiably a street, bloodsoaked, with pieces of dead animals - maybe dogs - littered between rusted car husks.
Toeing off her shoes, she nudged them with a practiced movement to rest neatly against the wall. That done, she buried herself under the covers and rolled to her side, curling defensively.
"Thank you," she said to Maleficent. And despite the defensive position, she didn't even look at the witch. It could have been mistaken for trust.