Chapter 13

I put my phone on the table and busied myself searching through the large pantry for ingredients, comparing pictures to the food labels under the eerie, bluish stasis light. In the kitchen again, I got to work, measuring and mixing under Randolph's watchful eyes. All my worries about Ellison kept biting at my feet, forcing me to move, wanting me to do something. And I finally was. The ship was hurtling toward her, and the only thing to pass the time was to throw myself into this small task.

It required deep concentration, similar to when I melted down iron into bite-sized pieces, and maybe because of that sameness, it helped ease some of my helplessness.

In the middle of cracking open the second egg since I'd completely mangled the first, the double doors burst open. I jumped, and when I did, a string of gooey yolk flew back on my sweatshirt.