Page 141 of The Savior

“Who’s your mother?”

“Samantha Sorenson.”

Chelsea froze.Senator Sorenson. Liam’s untrustworthy source. It couldn’t have been coincidence that Liam had mentioned her and now Chelsea was caged with her daughter. But… Angela flipped through the pages of a magazine as if she wasn’t worried.

“How long have you been here?”

“No idea. A few years?”

Chelsea lost her appetite.

But Angela shrugged, then added, “Don’t try to count the months, or you’ll go batty. Just watch the meals. That’s how you know it’s day and night.”

Chelsea stared blankly.

“You look like you need to eat,” Angela prompted.

She did. Even if she’d lost the urge. “Right.”

For the next few minutes, Chelsea ate and Angela paged through a magazine. The fog lifted from her mind with every bite, and finally, she asked, “You don’t seem… concerned. Or scared.”

“I was, but that can only last for so long. Now?” Angela shrugged. “Great food. Good books. I’m not scared. I’m bored.”

“They have us for a reason—”

“Of course they do. You can’t beSenator Sorenson’sdaughter and make it through life without realizing your mother is ruthless and power-hungry.” She leaned over a stack of books and eyed a small container of green goo that had turned Chelsea’s stomach. “The creamed spinach is really good.”

Chelsea shoved it Angela’s way. “They have us here for a reason,” she repeated.

“And sometime after the first month or year, I realized that no one was coming to get me. It didn’t serve me to be in an anxious fit every day of my life.”

“That seems very Zen, considering.”

Angela reached into a drawer and withdrew a plastic spork. “Out of my control, and who knows when it’s all over.” Then she dug into the creamed spinach. “But your arrival is different. Maybe I should be concerned.” She stopped mid-mouthful. “Oh, one other thing.”

Chelsea arched an eyebrow as she chewed the chicken. “Hm?”

“The old man? I call him Gramps to myself.”

She swallowed then asked, “What about him?”

“He likes to come in sometimes and ask questions like I’m his kid.” She let the spork hang in her hand. “It’d be creepy if he didn’t seem so sad.”

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