Page 294 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

“Who would be here?”

“Staff? Workers?”

“No. There’s only me. I don’t like foreign people in my space.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I mutter drily. “But who takes care of the grounds? And the house? This is so big it must require at least ten to twenty workers maintaining it on a regular basis.” The kitchen, too, is industrial in size—almost as big as the one at the military base. To my disappointment, there is no private chef waiting to cook me a special meal.

“No. It’s just me and occasionally my family comes over,” he says.

I’m still confused. “You’ve been away for months, Mine. How is this so…clean?” I point to the gleaming tiles and the spotless steel appliances that reflect my appearance—which is rather disheveled and should be fixed sometime soon.

“Oh, that…” he trails off nervously. “My mother must have done it. She comes in every week on Saturdays to clean and oversee the estate. She’s the only person I’d trust to clean my place.”

“I see.” Though I don’t really.

I jump out of his arms and go to the fridge, then open it to find it fully stocked with food.

Odd.

The meat and produce are both fresh. The cheese, too.

Another growl from my famished stomach. Ah, but that cheese looks good. I take it out of the fridge and take a bite out of it before I can help myself.

“Do you want me to cut some for you?” Mine asks.

“No, don’t worry. I can eat it like this.” I grab another bite. Hmm, I wonder what type of cheese this is. I can taste some nuts in it, and it’s quite creamy, not at all like that hard English cheddar.

“Are you sure? I can cut you a few slices and give you some bread.”

I shake my head. Why bother when I can just bite into it like this?

I’m halfway done with the block of cheese when I suddenly stop mid-chewing.

The sound of another set of footsteps reverberates through the house.

It’s close, far too close. And I was so damn focused on this cheese I barely realized another person had made it onto the grounds.

Sloppy, Minnie!What if it is an enemy? Surely cheese isn’t more important…

Yes, it is.

“You said there’s no one here.” I tilt my head to the side, listening to the sound as it approaches.

“It’s not…” he trails off as he hears the sound too.

“Mine, what day is today?” I think to ask right as I pocket the rest of the cheese.

A guilty look flashes on his face. He hadn’t thought of it, had he?

“What day is it?” I repeat, this time with rising panic.

“Saturday.”

By the Source, can the earth split open and swallow me now?

The last thing I needed is to meet his mother. I’m not only disheveled after three days of traveling in a car, I’m probably also a little—a lot—smelly and in need of a good scrub.

What will she think of me? That I’m some homeless beggar her son picked up on the streets?

---