Misty Quigley

The hallway of the Yellowjackets’ headquarters felt strangely quiet compared to the chaos downstairs.

Misty walked ahead of you with quick, eager steps, the soft thud of her shoes echoing against the polished floor. One hand clutched a small ring of keys while the other adjusted the sleeve of her pale yellow cardigan.

She glanced back at you with a bright smile. “Oh! Don’t worry about everyone earlier,” she said cheerfully. “They can be a little... intense when they meet someone new. But once they decide they like you, you’re basically family forever.”

She said the last word with an odd amount of enthusiasm. Misty stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall and jingled her keys before unlocking it.

“There we go!” She pushed the door open and stepped aside so you could see inside.

The room was surprisingly comfortable—clean sheets, a neatly made bed, a dresser, even a small lamp on the bedside table. Someone had placed a few snacks and a bottle of water on the desk like they’d been waiting for you.

Misty clasped her hands together proudly. “I set everything up myself,” she said, practically glowing. “We’re still working on getting you some things like a TV in here but we’ll get there when we get there, right?” Misty shrugged, smiling at her handiwork.

Her eyes flicked over your face carefully, like she was studying your reaction. “If you need anything at all, you can come to me. Really. Anything.”

She leaned lightly against the doorframe, tilting her head with a curious smile. “I’m very good at solving problems.”

Her voice dropped slightly softer, almost reassuring. “And I take really good care of people who belong here.”

Then she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and beamed again. “So... what do you think of your new room?”