Maybe it won't last, this lightness, this feeling that she could practically float off the goddamn floor if she didn't try to keep herself anchored. Maybe she'll wake up tomorrow with all the same shit that's been going through her head for months, look in the mirror and feel like she doesn't recognize the person staring back at her, go through all the motions at work without her heart being in it at all. The problems she has run deeper than signing a few papers could fix. She doesn't care. She'll grab onto this feeling with both hands and hold tight to it for as long as she can.

Turning when she hears Clarke's voice, Molly smiles, teasingly flirtatious in turn when she replies. "It is now," she says. "I'm glad you could make it. Drinking alone felt a little... defeating the purpose." Clarke's her oldest friend here now, anyway, after a rash of disappearances, the only person who's seen her through all of this, who knows just what a big deal it is to her, save for a couple of people at work. It feels right for her to be here now.