Chapter 8: Sausage and Secrets

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Cal's POV

The sun peeked through the curved window, stinging my eyes. I groaned, turning away from the light. I'd slept so late, and it was way too early for me to be waking up.

"Hi!" Serena's cheerful voice rang through the room as she swayed the door curtain to the side.

"I thought you'd sleep in!" she exclaimed.

"Ugh... I was trying to. The sunlight's way too bright," I mumbled, burying my face in the pillow, hoping she'd let me go back to sleep.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Well, I'm still cooking, so I'll come get you later!" After fixing the curtain, she stepped out, leaving me to slip back into a light doze.

---

It didn't feel like five minutes before she was back again. I stretched lazily, blinking as the sight of Serena bustling around in the kitchen came into focus.

The smell of toasted bread mingled with the rich aroma of brewing coffee and the savory scent of beans and sausages wafting from the kitchen, teasing my senses.

"Something's saucy," I mumbled under my breath, reminded that this wasn't my home. Not that I ever got a say in what breakfast was back home, anyway.

The most important meal of the day, Mother would always say.

"Are you going to complain all morning or help me with these bowls?" Serena teased, flashing one of her bright, annoyingly cheerful smiles.

I sat up, grinning despite myself. "I wouldn't want to steal your thunder. You're clearly living the dream, playing hostess and all."

She rolled her eyes, handing me a bowl. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you weren't having fun."

I gave a casual shrug, my sarcasm slipping through. "I'm here for the adventure, not the luxury accommodations."

As I took the bowl, I glanced around the dining room. The pink walls were an eyesore, but the black horizontal lines running through them gave the room an oddly artsy vibe.

"Okay, seriously, what do those lines represent?" I asked, genuinely curious. They were the only thing that made the vibrant pink walls somewhat tolerable.

The pink walls, though vibrant, felt out of place against the backdrop of the old, abandoned town above us, a stark reminder of the life that once thrived here.

Serena's expression turned incredulous. "You don't know? That's line art!" she exclaimed, as if it was common knowledge.

I shrugged, taking a slice of toast and layering it with the beans and sausage laid out on the table. "Not really the artsy type, but I can appreciate it," I said, winking playfully.

Serena hummed in mock offense, sounding like an offended cat, and I chuckled softly before composing myself for a quick prayer. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, letting the morning air fill my lungs.

"Oh, our goddess," I whispered, "I pray for your goodness. Bless this food and the hands that prepared it. Bless our day and guide our journey. Thank you."

When I opened my eyes, Serena was staring at me, wide-eyed.

"Uh, hello?" I asked, feeling a bit awkward under her gaze.

"I just... saw something ethereal," she muttered, more to herself than to me.

I shrugged, biting into my toast, the taste of beans and sausage melting together better than I expected. "So," I began between bites, "are you going to tell me why everyone's hiding out down here?"

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