’”“You're welcome. For the stew. When do you think we will see each other again?”“Based on our track record, the best case scenario would be...next St. Patrick's Day when I pick up my holiday dessert from your grocery store. So, 365 days, minus a few hours.”“That's too long. We need to keep you fed.” He cringed at his words. “I want to feed you.”What?“I want you to eat food and I eat food, together,” Jacob attempted to explain. “Dinner. Again. You're making me nervous.”“How? I'm just standing. No signs of tears, but her face was red and she looked at me for a moment, making a kind of “whew!” sound. “Good luck! She’s in a vicious mood” she muttered, and disappeared down the corridor, hands to arse.Someone in the room yelled “Deidre!” and walked in, trying to look as though I wasn’t worried, but beginning to feel a bit less confident. Inside, to the left, the Prefects were sitting in a half-circle, as though watching a show. To the right was “the show”, a large, heavy table was. More

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