Chapter 7 Begging For Scraps
- The idea came to me while wandering the east wing with Clara.
- We had passed the kitchen—a very huge space with gleaming steel counters and ovens bigger than my childhood bedroom. The staff worked with efficient silence, slicing, stirring, plating meals that never quite tasted like food to me. Everything here was exquisite, expensive, artful. But sterile.
- Like the house itself.