I hear a gentle knock on the door, and when I go to answer it Ivan is standing there with a bowl of porridge in his hands and a look of shock on his face. He’s staring at me with his mouth agape.
“Do you like it?” I say with a smirk.
“You look… different… that’s for sure,” He says with a chuckle.
“Shut up,” I say, rolling my eyes and taking the bowl from his hands. “Thanks for the food.”
He clears his throat. “No problem,” he says in that gruff voice, “Just stay quiet, okay?”
“I know, I know,” I answer, shutting the door behind me as I turn away.
I sit down at the desk and practically inhale the bowl of gloop. It’s disgusting, but I haven’t eaten in so long that I don’t really care. After licking the bowl clean, I sit back and stare at the deteriorating ceiling.
What now?
I know I
