Breakfast the next morning is…awkward.
Kent serves Daniel and I eggs and sausage, sliding the plates onto the table next to our cups of coffee without a word of acknowledgement.
Daniel and I dig in silently, both intuiting that it’s better to stay off Kent’s radar.
When Kent’s back in the galley, Daniel looks at me curiously, nodding to his dad and shrugging in question, asking me with his gestures whether or not I have any idea what’s going on.
I shrug back, doing my very best to pretend that I don’t. God, I hope he believes me.
Daniel sighs and we continue eating quietly for a few minutes.
I open my mouth to ask Daniel his plans for the day when a guard comes into the room, rushing towards Kent. Distracted, I shut my mouth and we both watch the action instead.
“Sir,” the gua
