Chapter 9: Eggs

Xiao Ting's stomach growled, loud and insistent.

She already missed her parents.

If they were here, she wouldn't have to venture out to find food.

With a resigned sigh, she stood up and sprinted down the stairs, determined to leave.

The aroma of eggs hit her halfway down. Her stomach rumbled even louder.

She paused.

He was cooking.

Ugh. She hated that he could cook while she couldn't even boil rice without setting off the smoke alarm.

Shaking her head, she headed toward the door, but her steps faltered.

Was she really going outside? Alone?

Her hand hovered over the doorknob as anxiety clawed at her chest. She couldn't remember the last time she stepped out by herself.

Her palms grew clammy, and she felt a lump rising in her throat.

"You can have some."

She spun around, startled, to find Chase leaning casually in the kitchen doorway.

Her sudden movement made him flinch, his hands instinctively shielding his family jewels.

"You're not kneeing me in the balls again. I plan on having kids someday," he said, narrowing his eyes.

She folded her arms, giving him a withering look. "Poor kids."

He glared right back. "I made dinner. You don't have to go outside."

Her gaze shifted to the table. The meal looked annoyingly good—fluffy eggs, steaming rice, and golden toast. Her mouth watered.

But she forced herself to scowl. "No. I don't know what you put in it, and I don't trust strangers."

He scoffed, crossing his arms. "You're paranoid. It's just food. Eat or don't eat, your choice."

Before he could say more, she stomped to the door, yanked it open, and slammed it shut behind her.

But the second she stepped onto the dimly lit, empty street, regret hit her like a cold gust of wind.

She stood there, frozen, unsure whether to keep walking or turn back. The dark seemed to close in, and the sound of her heartbeat roared in her ears.

Her stomach growled again, this time in protest.