Chapter Twenty

The stew was actually rather good. It seems Andromache can cook. I’m glad it won’t just be me cooking. Yes, some burned bits in the stew near the bottom of the pot, but overall it was good. The girls settled in for the evening, taking up the bed. Melite was crocheting something with the colorful yawn my mother brought. Europa was busying herself with brushing Andromache’s hair while Andromache was reading one of the books I’d brought from my max shift library. 

It was oddly settling. To sit here content, not alone, as I reread a book for probably the millionth time. I could almost get used to this. But I remind myself it's not forever. This is only until they can escape and start their lives over somewhere. And I want that for them. I want them to be free and to live long, happy lives. 

“Did the person who built this plac