"You do it."
Flossie Wright simply stood up and threw two bamboo chopsticks to Sandy Cruz.
After glancing at her, Sandy's lips twitched slightly, and for the sake of his own breakfast, he decided to take over the mess.
If he really couldn't stomach it, the one who would suffer in the end would be him.
Picking up a piece of wild boar meat, Sandy examined it carefully by the light of the fire, noting the half-charred, half-raw state of the meat, which made his eyes darken abruptly.
"How did you manage this?"
Sandy couldn't help but ask.
Turning her head to the side, Flossie pondered for a moment before finding an excuse, "The heat wasn't right."
"..."
Sandy could hardly bear to look at her.
The heat wasn't right, could it burn to this extent?
It's really deadly.
It was said that she used to be a cook.
With such cooking skills, one wonders how many people she could have killed.
