“Are you comfortable?” Dmitri whispers, leaning in, his hands on my hips; adjusting me so I’m sitting properly on his lap. So I can stop squirming like a worm under a magnifying glass.
I remembered how to breathe only moments ago; comfort is no longer a word in my vocabulary. Not because I’m perched on his lap, but because of the many eyes that keep coming back to me. Dinner had been served minutes ago, and now everyone was seated; eating utensils clattering on plates, soft chewing, gentle swallows, and gazes graciously pretending not to look at me; at us. Apparently, a seat hadn’t even been placed for me. The only empty seat at both twin tables is Sayah’s.
I nod, stabbing the fruits in the bowl Dmitri had placed for me.
It all looks so delicious, and I’m so famished, but I don’t think
