“What if I die?” I asked, irritated.
Abraham continued to shake his head, continued to hold that plate of steak and potatoes out to me. “It doesn’t matter,” he said.
It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if I’m weak and shaky and starving. It doesn’t matter if I’m alive or dead, not to these people. Of course. I should have known.
Although, that wasn’t entirely true, was it? I mean, sure, Mina and Abraham didn’t care what happened to me; the way they must have seen it, the weaker I was, the better off they were. But Jonathan... Jonathan benefited from my strength. If he succeeded with me, then he would be rewarded beyond measure, which meant that I mattered to him. He needed me, just as much as I needed him.
“I don’t understand,” I mumbled, nodding toward the plate held in Abraham’s han
