SUZANA'S POV:
"Where are we?" I asked, glancing around the room.
He picked me up effortlessly and set me down on the counter. "This is my home. I bought it after I ran away from my father," he explained, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
I nodded, absorbing his words. I couldn't judge him; I didn't know his past. Maybe I did remember, but it was buried deep within me. As he pulled out plates from the cupboards, he said, "You must be hungry."
I smiled, my stomach grumbling in agreement. "I am starving."
He placed a plate in front of me and took a seat next to me at the counter. I couldn't help but feel a rush of comfort sitting beside him, my tiny frame next to his muscular build. He expertly fried eggs with bits of meat and set some warm bread beside a steaming bowl of soup.
