Chapter One Hundred Thirty-Three: ‘Thy deepening concern...’
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Gina wiped her nose for what felt like the fiftieth time in the past hour. She lay in bed, nestled in a small fortress of blankets and pillows as she browsed through old emails on her laptop.
She was not alone, however. The girl not-really-watching television on the other side of the room was her guest--a guest whose stay was currently indefinite.
Madison Reach pursed her lips absently. “So, um... any word yet on when Roman will be back?”
Gina had to consciously avoid rolling her eyes. “No.”
“Right. Of course. Sorry to keep asking.”
“It’s fine,” said Gina.
Another long period of silence intervened, leaving only the background noise of the television in the room.
Gina didn’t necessarily mind Madison’s company, as such. The girl needed a safe place to stay. Apparently, things had gotten a little crazy in Steccat, and now, the Andalero group wanted her dead or captured. And it was largely Master Roman’s fault.
Not too surprising. Gina understood.
But Madison’s apparent obsession with Master Roman had become rather grating. And it didn’t even make sense. Shouldn’t she have been upset? From what Master Roman had said, he’d nearly gotten her killed and quite possibly ruined her entire livelihood. And yet she hadn’t mentioned any of that to Gina even once. Was she just incredibly forgiving? Somehow, Gina didn’t think so.
It was distracting, to say the least. Gina just wanted to lie in bed, chug cold medicine, and maybe find some new intel on these Andalero people.
But no. Madison had to be here, too. Being all nice and thoughtful. Making Gina breakfast, lunch, and dinner--and well, too. How did she even know how to cook, huh? Weren’t movie stars supposed to be crap at that sort of thing?
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