Proxy moved along the wall, not hurrying, but not so slowly that he looked like he was dodging anything in particular. The guards were scattered across the active sections, and none of them were looking at the wall. None of them were looking at the kitchen, either, which, in its own way, was reassuring.
He reached it and pushed the door.
The kitchen was smaller than the amount of food suggested. Overhead lighting, white and harsh.
A counter was along the left wall, and another along the far wall. A rack of kitchen knives sat on a bar magnet near the door, cleaning supplies lined up at the base of the far counter, overhead storage he did not have the height for and did not have the time to bother with.
And Vex standing in the center of the room.
