The time was twenty minutes past eight. I had an hour and forty minutes to vomit all the questions ravaging my brain.
Peter and Laura were staring at me calmly, their hands clasped on each other as if rehearsed. They were waiting.
My brain kept throwing up questions, and I was confused on which one to ask first. I took a deep breath, finally deciding to start with less stressful questions, and take it up from there.
“Where is the dog?” That was my first question, and at first they didn't understand it; they hadn't seen the question coming. They had thought I would be asking questions about the community and the queen’s interest in me.
It took a few seconds for them to recover from that unexpectancy before answering my question about the dog that I hadn’t seen since I had woken up the
