–Jane–
I sat across from Wally, who was flawlessly removing the flesh of the tuna from the bones with surgical precision with the House Chef. He was preparing sashimi for me with the original chef. I don't really eat raw food, but I think I need it. I also need alcohol—but he strictly told me I can't have any. Not today.
"Where's Logan?" I asked.
"He went out with Kenzo earlier," he replied, and the chef beside him placed a small tray of sea urchin before me.
"Thank you," I muttered.
Restlessness gnawed at me from the inside out. I don't have work today—not even tonight—and that in itself feels unnatural. I don't know what's happening at the lab. I hate stillness. I hate unoccupied hours. Even resting feels like sitting under a spotlight with nowhere to hide.
