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Being a degenerate is okay these days
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Raina nudged a bit of debris with her toe, gray ash smudging her shoe. "Yeah?" She said absentmindedly as Penelope spoke. She knew that the school library was one of Penelope's regular meeting places with Samuel; hadn't she joined them there time and again? It wasn't really about telling Raina something she didn't know or giving some big revelation. Penelope just needed to talk, to let everything out. Nice as Ben probably was, he didn't seem like the sort of person you could really pour your heart out to.

She tucked stray locks of hair behind her ears and knelt, pulling a second book from the wreckage and flipping it open. Part of it just disintegrated in her hand, but it wasn't entirely burnt.

There wasn't enough paper here for posters, but Raina deposited the half-intact book into her bag anyway. Let them think she was dumb. Let them think she wasn't planning ahead, planning anything at all. After this they could go back to the asylum, to the library there, and then to the bell tower when it was open again. There was no lighthouse on the island, but they could make their own beacon.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Hyphaema · The Library