But even prisoners need to eat. So after I steel myself for whatever my captors have waiting for me, I creep down the stairs towards the kitchen for something to eat. Coffee, at least.
I don’t see anyone in the sitting room and I can’t hear any voices. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll pour myself a cup of coffee and grab a banana without being seen. A few more hours alone in my room sounds nice.
But luck hasn’t been on my side recently. Actually, Lady Luck has been a stone-cold b***h who seems to get her shits and giggles from kicking me when I’m already way down.
So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that, the moment my toes touch the hardwood floor of the entryway, my name is called from the dining room.
“Cordelia,” Alexander says like he has been expecting me. “We’re in here.”
I don’t know w
