The only room he had left locked was the one that looked to be between my room and his. I hadn't had the bravery to search for the whole morning after he said he was leaving. I had hid in my room, thinking that this was some sort of test. That if I failed, I could potentially end up back in the cell, because he couldn't trust me. But then my belly had rumbled. I had reasoned with myself that surly going and getting myself some food would not fail this imaginary test I had conjured up, that could or could not be real.
I'd headed straight for the kitchen and explored what it had to offer. I was delighted to find the eggs. Some cheese and ham. I made myself an omelet. And washed it down with some of the fresh orange juice that was also there. It looked like before he left he had made sure
