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L IS A J. L A W R E N C E

Greta shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.”
At five o’clock Elgin knocked on their door before opening
it a crack. “Supper’s ready, if you are.”
When he left, Greta raised an eyebrow at Ash. They
followed Elgin, the heat from the stove making the kitchen and
living room even warmer. Condensation covered the windows,
smudging their view of the darkening sky. Elgin pointed to the
empty chairs at the table. He’d already set places for them, with

a pot of rice and a wok filled with steak strips and grilled
vegetables in the middle. Greta tried not to dive for her fork.
“Thank you. This looks fantastic,” she said, torn between
ravenous and awkward. They all sat looking at each other,
waiting for someone to make the first move.
“Well, dig in.” Elgin waved a hand toward the food.
Greta dished up, taking half of what she actually wanted ADVANCE READING COPY

before handing the spoons to Ash. He did the same and
passed them to Eglin.
After one bite, Ash asked, “So how do we pay for meals?”
Greta wondered the same thing. One chore for basic
carbohydrates? Two for any meal containing meat? Do
twenty push-ups?
Elgin’s eyebrows pressed together. “Sit, relax, eat,” he said.
“You aren’t servants here.” He finished dishing up his own
food before speaking again. “My daughter, Alice, only comes

by once a month. I like cooking and rarely have someone to
cook for, so”—he gestured to the food again—“please eat it.”
“Ash likes cooking too,” Greta said. Ash looked at her,
the sense of betrayal clear on his face. She didn’t know why

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