Celeste’s POV
David returned to my bedroom—or perhaps I should call it my prison cell now—a few days afterwards. It was past midnight, as usual, and he was holding a tray in his hands. I hardly looked up from where I was sitting in front of the fireplace, too exhausted from lack of food to pay attention, even if he was bringing me something to eat.
“Here.” David placed the tray on my lap. There was some bread and a bowl of soup, and I immediately dunked the bread into the broth, gobbling it up in a few bites. Meanwhile, he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and opened it.
“What’s that?” I asked around a mouthful of bread. David’s brows were lifted. I wondered if it was a response from Natalia.
He silently handed me something from the envelope. I took it and opened it; it was a small,
