Chapter 231

• We ended up in the manor kitchen, just the two of us sitting at the long marble island while I reheated leftover pasta and meatballs. She watched every movement, like she couldn’t decide if this was some trap or if I was actually this… weird.
• When the food was ready, she took one bite—just one—and her eyes closed like she hadn’t tasted real food in years.
• “I forgot what warm home meals feel like,” she admitted quietly. “You’ve been alone all this time?” I asked, keeping my voice gentle, not pushing too hard.