( &Â zarawardlaw. )
Zara shrugged at his response. “In the Middle Ages they’d salt-cure all of their meats to prevent spoil and rot. Didn’t help much, to tell you the truth.” She returned to picking at her dinner and sighed, decided to pick everything up and set herself down directly in front of Lee. “And I used to go here, just came back. We’ve gotten a new kitchen staff, I see.” She glanced over him apprehensively. “I see you’re not eating either.”
“Uh—huh.” Lee’s fork smoothes out the edges of his mashed potato Vesuvius. He is listening — it just doesn’t show. But she’s talking about history, and this is something he knows, something he’s well versed in, so he’s showing more active interest than he usually does. ( Not the Middle Ages, specifically, but Lee has never been picky with history — and he’s got a book on it somewhere. ) “The Black Death happened under their watch, so I guess they didn’t have the best ideas about much.” He looks up from the mess he’s made, pleased, and catches the girl’s eyes. “Budget cuts, maybe. Or maybe they just don’t like us Dumfries kids.” He stabs and scoops up the top of the volcano. Adds some more gravy, till it overflows like it’s erupting — the sight makes him smile. “No — I’m not usually hungry. Don’t have an excuse good as yours.” Engage, Dr. Muñoz’s voice sounds off. “Where’d you go?”












