“Just need to explain a few things to . . .” he trailed off, waiting for someone to fill him in on her name.
“Oh, um, this is Ágata,” Ernest said.
“Ágata?” That name suited her.
“Ágata Brown.”
Ágata Brown? Seriously? She didn’t look like a Ágata. Something set off a small warning in his head, but he ignored it.
“Right. Well, Ágata, come with me. You need to learn the rules if you’re going to be our private server.” He started pulling her toward the door again.
She resisted. Maybe she was having second thoughts about agreeing to be their server.
Good. Finally.
He stared down at her, waiting for her to tell him that she’d changed her mind. But instead, she sighed, staring back at where she’d been standing.
“But my sandwich,” she said mournfully.
What? Her sandwich? That was what sh
