I didn’t even lift my eyelids. I simply started eating.
Not because I was touched, and not because I accepted her “concern.”
I was just hungry.
I hadn’t had a proper breakfast in three years in prison, and after everything that happened last night, refusing food now would only make me look like I was cooperating with their little performance.
I ate slowly, unhurried, as if all the awkwardness around the table had nothing to do with me.
Evangeline stared at me, waiting for me to look at her, waiting for me to say thank you.
But I didn’t spare her even the corner of my eye.
Her expression slowly stiffened, her eyes growing moist, as if she were the one who had been wronged.
Nathaniel tapped the table. “Aria.”
I didn’t look up.
He coughed, this time deliberately, “Ahem!”
I continue
