Next day, it’s like Jack never was. The men rise to growl and grumble like always, nobody taking much note on Jack’s bed being empty. He could be off drunk somewhere or down to the river, for all they care. I turn to Evan, who I find watching me. I can’t make out how he feels about events and hope he’s not waiting on me to tell him what for, because at this point, I have no idea. I dress like the others, enjoy a trip to the privy, then walk to breakfast. I decide it’s a fine day, likely to warm considerably.
Breakfast passes as usual and I eat a lot, having missed supper night before. As I shovel in food, it occurs to me I’m eating regular, when yesterday I killed a man with the same hands now working knife and fork. I pause to let this play over me, allowing it my due, then finish the me
