While Mars was dealing with Alastair, Vicki heated up leftovers from dinner, insisting Dylan needed to eat. “You’ve been through a lot tonight. You have to eat and then get to bed.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Dylan protested.
Emmet, who had remained behind when everyone else dispersed, told him, “When Mama Vicki says eat, you eat. She gets real pissed when someone spurns her meals.”
“You made this?” Dylan said in surprise when she set a bowl of stew in front of him.
“You bet. Since it’s one of Ms. Jenkins’ nights off, I volunteered to fix dinner. It was that, or eat whatever Emmet came up with.” She grinned at Emmet, getting an eye roll in return. Ms. Jenkins was the compound’s resident cook and housekeeper. From what Dylan had been told, her husband had worked for C21 until his untimely
