Chapter 40: Andres

I give my head a slight shake and put my spoon in the bowl, tasting the surprisingly good soup. It's basic canned chicken gumbo, but she's added some kind of seasoning to spruce it up. The beans go oddly well with it and fill my empty belly. I finish my plate, help myself to the leftovers and eat until I'm satisfied. I drain my glass of juice, enjoying the sweet, slightly tart taste.

Only after I've set the glass on the table do I remember that I've hurt her arm. I open my mouth to ask about the injury, but I stop myself. I don't want to give her the impression that I care more than I should, give her hope. She can't build the expectation that our interlude here will end in any way other than her death.

The bleak thought dampens the pleasantly full feeling of our meal. My gaze lingers on her arm, but I can't tell if it's bothering her. Her flawless Latina skin is covering any bruising that might be there and it doesn't look swollen. If the injury pains her then she's hiding it. I sho