The industrial freezer door hissed open like it was sighing in disappointment. A wall of cold smacked Xavier in the face. Hard. Like karma. Or Joy on a bad day.“Alright,” he muttered, stepping in. “Let’s see if freezing to death is as fun as it sounds.”The cold was immediate, aggressive, like it had a personal grudge. He stripped off his jacket and shirt with exaggerated flair, like he was performing in a very sad, very illegal burlesque show.Miriam didn’t even glance up. “Try not to die dramatically. We still need your organs functioning.”“Encouraging, as always,” Xavier muttered, teeth already chattering. “Go on then. Remind me why this was the genius plan.”Miriam adjusted her glasses and pulled out a syringe like she was about to give a lecture and a flu shot. “Step one: freeze you. Step two: slow the ricin. Step three: hope House Six’s luck hasn’t completely run out this semester.”“Step four?” he asked, breath fogging.“Step four is optional: survive.”“Ah,” he said through
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