AT NATHAN’S INSISTENCE, we reconvened in the lounge. Sean settled me beside Ethan on one of the large sofas before fixing me more food—the rumbling in my stomach had made itself heard again. When he returned, I straightened, my lips curving at the bowl of stew and thick wedges of crusty bread. Billowing steam carried the flavours to my senses and had me salivating before I’d even picked up my spoon.
Sean sat beside me, and they were all respectfully quiet while I ate. Hungry as ever, I chomped on bread with one hand, used my other to spoon in the hot comforting liquid. A groan of pleasure erupted on tasting the stew, followed by a second when it headed south to land in my stomach, filling the expanded void within.
“Nathan, I’ve been thinking,” I mumbled around stew-soaked bread.
“About?
