Princess
Prin had me escorted to my “room,” promising more details of how she knew my mother over dinner, whether I wanted them or not.
The fourth wall of this room was the glass outer wall of the building itself, looking down on vacant, crooked buildings and rubble. The street below was largely taken up by a toppled statue of a man in a cape, with one arm outstretched to show off a watch much like Luke’s. It was hard to tell from this height, but I thought some of the fragments scattered around it looked like bleached bone.
If this suspense was supposed to make me more eager to sit through another round of the Rippers’ version of events, it wasn’t working, but after the first couple of hours sitting on the pile of ratty quilts in the corner with nothing but the view to distract me from
