Chapter 23

• The apartment was cozy, filled with the warmth of Susan’s home-cooked meal, and the light scent of roasted chicken and herbs lingered in the air. She watched Samuel take another bite of rice and salad, his face softened by a rare moment of calm. For the first time in a while, they were sitting down together, sharing a meal without the shadows of debt or danger lurking in the background—at least, that’s what she wanted him to think.
• “This is good,” Samuel said, gesturing to his plate. “You still make the best chicken.”
• Susan gave him a small smile. “Mom taught me well. I had to learn to keep you fed, remember? You weren’t exactly a picky eater, but you could finish a meal before I even sat down.”