Frankie and Nico move quickly around the kitchen, assessing the supplies as I just stand here, looking down at my feet, trying to put the pieces of my reality back together.
Apparently, I stand there for a long time, because before I know it Frankie’s pressing a hot mug of coffee into my hand. “Cream and sugar?” he asks, his voice quiet.
I look up into his face as my fingers close around the cup. “How did you know that?”
He smiles at me, and I can see the real sympathy in his eyes. “You seem like a cream and sugar kind of girl,” he says. And then he winks at me and turns back to the kitchen. “I hope you like dry cereal! It’s all we’ve got, until we can get some milk.”
There’s no time to reply, though, before Christian walks out of his room again, dressed in what looks like an incredibl
