Easther immediately split it into two uneven halves—one large, one small. Without wasting a second, she scooped honey from the larger piece, golden and viscous, and smeared it carefully over the cleaned fish. One by one, she pierced the fish with sharpened sticks and set them over the fire to roast, the sweet scent of honey rising with the smoke.
Zaki Lee watched her, equal parts wary and intrigued.
“Honey on fish?” he muttered, lips twisting. “You’re either desperate… or a genius.”
Easther didn’t look at him. “You’ll eat if you’re hungry. Genius or desperate, it won’t matter then.”
Zaki chuckled under his breath, the sound low, but his eyes didn’t leave her face.
Just who are you, girl? And what kind of hell forged you into this?
“Sit down.”
The words fell from her lips like shards
