The Name of the Rose
"There is food on the table."
A tray rested on the low table, the items he had taken from Jiaofu's hands. It held cold meat and bread, along with a small jug of milk.
"I'm not hungry." Her stomach had been hurting constantly, but Lin Yilan had no appetite at all.
Feige insisted. "You haven't eaten anything all day."
She thought for a moment, washed her hands, sat at the table, tore off a small piece of bread, dipped it in the milk, and forced herself to swallow it.