Chapter 195
- Lucas' POV
- The girl's hands danced. Apron strings became a lover's knot at her waist. Eggs cracked one-handed, yolks bobbing like liquid suns. I watched, transfected, as she transformed slaughter into sacrament—French toast glazed in maple, coffee dark as a sinner's heart.
- "How did you do it?" I gestured at the golden crust.