I ripped into the bread. It was very dense, studded with whole-grain kernels that caught in my teeth. The texture was gritty, but the flavor was wonderfully rich. I couldn’t remember anything tasting more delicious to me, not even my mushed-up Twinkies. My jaw worked as fast as it could, but I swallowed most of the mouthfuls of tough bread half-chewed. I could hear each mouthful hit my stomach with a gurgle. It didn’t feel as good as I thought it would. Too long empty, my stomach reacted to the food with discomfort.

I ignored that and moved on to the liquid—it was soup. This went down easier. Aside from the onions I’d smelled, the taste was mild. The green chunks were soft and spongy. I drank it straight from the bowl and wished the bowl were deeper. I tipped it back to make sure I’d gotten every drop.

The white vegetables were crunchy in texture, woody in taste. Some kind of root. They weren’t as satisfying as the soup or as tasty as the bread, but I was grateful for their bulk. I wasn’t full—not close—and I probably would have started on the tray next if I thought I’d be able to chew through it.

It didn’t occur to me until I was finished that they shouldn’t be feeding me. Not unless Jared had lost the confrontation with the doctor. Though why would Jared be my guard if that were the case?

I slid the tray away when it was empty, cringing at the noise it made. I stayed pressed against the back wall of my bubble as Jared reached in to retrieve it. This time he didn’t look at me.

“Thank you,” I whispered as he disappeared again. He said nothing; there was no change in his face. Even the bit of his sleeve did not show this time, but I was sure he was there.

I can’t believe he hit me, Melanie mused, her thought incredulous rather than resentful. She was not over the surprise of it yet. I hadn’t been surprised in the first place. Of course he had hit me.

I wondered where you were, I answered. It would be poor manners to get me into this mess and then abandon me.

She ignored my sour tone. I wouldn’t have thought he’d be able to do it, no matter what. I don’t think I could hit him.

Sure you could. If he’d come at you with reflective eyes, you’d have done the same. You’re naturally violent. I remembered her daydreams of strangling the Seeker. That seemed like months ago, though I knew it was only days. It would make sense if it had been longer. It ought to take time to get oneself stuck in such a disastrous mire as the one I was in now.