The porridge sat untouched.
Steam curled lazily from the bowl, drifting into the air like it had all the time in the world to waste. Unlike Alice, whose thoughts were running marathons in her skull, each one colliding with the last.
She stared at the tray Rowan had dropped off earlier, spoon still where he'd left it. It wasn't the food that bothered her. It was everything else.
This is a mess.
She leaned back in the fancy wooden chair and let out a slow exhale, a sound of utter defeat. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, as if they could somehow hold her entire life together.
She hated this.
She couldn't leave here.
Well, technically, she could. But then...
Hades.
Alice groaned into her hands, the sound muffled and exasperated.
