Darin remained where she was, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back tilted forward. Her elbows pressed into her knees, both hands clutching her head as if holding it together. Strands of hair slipped through her fingers. She didn't move.
The woman sat down beside her as though they were sharing a bench at a bus stop.
"You know," she said lightly, lifting the tray, "you've been out for quite a while." She brought the sandwich close, waving it near Darin's shoulder. "I'd advise you to at least take a bite of this."
Darin didn't respond.
The woman waited a second longer than necessary, then sighed.
"Whatever," she said, settling back. "I'm hungry too anyway."
She took a large bite, chewing loudly, the sound filling the small room, impossible to ignore. Darin's shoulders tensed, but she stayed still.
After a few bites, the woman set the sandwich back onto the tray. She picked up the mug next, steam brushing against her fingers.
"Coffee?" she asked casually. "Do you like it with sugar?"
A small spoon clinked softly against the ceramic as she stirred, wrist relaxed, movements unhurried.
"Heh," she said, amused with herself. "Everybody does, right?"
She lifted the mug to her lips, pausing just long enough for the words to land.
"After all, my name isSugar."
She drank, then placed the mug down carefully.
The room settled again.
Only then did Darin speak, and she still didn't look up.
"…Who are you?" she asked, her fingers tightened briefly against her scalp. "Why are you doing this to us?"
Sugar studied Darin like she was deciding how honest to be, then let out a soft breath through her nose.
"Why?" she repeated. "That's usually not where people start."
Darin finally lifted her head. Strands of hair clung to her face, eyes rimmed red but burning underneath.
"Your people ambushed us," she said hoarsely. "Why?"
Sugar smiled faintly.
"Honestly?" Sugar said. "That part wasn't my call."
She picked up the mug again, cradling it between her palms.
"But what I do know is that you and your brother are useful."
She took a sip, then glanced sideways at Darin.
"And you, drove right into our territory."
Darin's chest tightened.
"…What does that mean?"
Sugar's gaze drifted to the bandage on Darin's head.
"You don't remember everything yet," she said lightly. "That's normal. Head injuries can be tricky. Trauma too."
She paused.
"But don't worry. There isn't any need to pressure you. Your brother's memories are still intact."
Darin went still, pushed herself forward, pain flaring sharp enough to blur her vision. She grabbed the bedframe.
"What did you do to him?"
Sugar set the mug down.
"He's fine," she added, "For now."
Darin's nails dug into the wood.
For now.
Sugar leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.
"You should eat," she said, nudging the tray closer with her foot. "You're going to need to recover."
Darin looked at the food like it might bite her.
"I'm not hungry."
Sugar's smile thinned, just slightly.
"Good enough, but that was a suggestion, not an order."
She tilted her head, voice lowering.
"This is the last quiet moment you get, Darin. After this, people are going to start wanting things from you."
Darin looked up.
Sugar met her gaze, eyes bright and intent.
"And without your memories," she said softly, "you'll be the reason you both die."
…
Sugar picked up her mug.
"So," she added pleasantly, "do you want to ask your questions again… or are you ready to listen?"