Chapter 8Rue was staring at the tiny bubbles rising from the bottom of the pot of water he’d placed on the stove.
“Rue? What’s this?” Gertrude held up one of the bok choy things he’d put in a water bath in the sink.
“Bok choy. Asian kale.”
“To eat?”
He nodded. “Yes. I’m making us lunch.”
“You’re making us lunch? Out of these?”
“Yes.” He’d already chopped onion and garlic and put them in a skillet with some soy sauce. There should be oyster sauce too, according to the recipe Chaton had given him, but he hadn’t found any in the cupboard, so he’d taken sweet chili sauce instead. Not the same, but they’d make do.
“Do you know how to cook? It’s been a year, and I’ve never seen you cook.”
“I’m alive, aren’t I? Of course I can cook.” Then he grimaced. “I’m no chef, but I’m able to feed my
