Natalia’s POV
I rounded the corner to find that a crowd had gathered near the kitchen entrance, and everyone was murmuring amongst themselves. Closer to the center, I could hear what sounded like someone crying, and the air smelled like wine and vomit.
Curious, I pushed through the crowd until I saw what they were all looking at. And what I found there made bile rise in my throat so violently that I nearly threw up on the spot.
The cook who had helped me yesterday was lying on the kitchen floor. Her body was limp, dried foam crusted at the corner of her mouth, eyes staring glassily up at the ceiling.
She was dead.
I clapped my hand to my mouth and immediately looked away, fighting the urge to retch up what little I had managed to eat recently.
“What happened?” I asked one of the kitc
