The aroma of spicy soup and honey-glazed ham hits Twyla’s nostrils and goes straight to her grumbling belly, reminding her of the last thick bite of chicken sandwich shared with Jayson at midnight. When Jayson lowers her to the floor, she ambles to the refrigerator, removes a bottle of water, and swallows a thirsty gulp.
Jayson saunters straight to the simmering pot on the stove and inhales the savory broth. “This smells divine.”
“And it’s yummy, too,” Twyla says, realizing he’ll need several dishes to satisfy his bottomless stomach, a ravenous appetite matched by a fast metabolism. “I’ll get the bowls and spoons.”
Twyla closes the fridge and pauses when a slight noise agitates the room. She glances at Jayson near the gas range, then turns her gaze to the far corner and back door, liste
