Maomao ignores her at first, tracing her finger along some text next to a detailed cross-section, but then she picks up on the faintest of fragrances — that slightly bitter scent that so many medicinal herbs have. She sniffs the air for a second, then her eyes lock on to Natalia's satchel, her eyes shining.

"Wait, is that—?"

A grotesque smile has stolen over her face. She looks like she is going to Lose Control in this school library.