When There Is Nothing Left But Love

I sat up in a daze for a moment before I got out of bed.

With Abe’s permission, I had complete freedom around the villa.

There was a landline in the villa, but I was not allowed to use it.

Nobody was able to guarantee if the landline even worked; it was not worth the trouble to try.

To speak to Nora and the rest, I had to find a way to enter the operating theatre. The only catch was that it required Danny’s retina scan to unlock.

With nothing to be done, I wandered around the pitch-black villa and returned to my bedroom dejectedly.

Everything was normal over the next few days. I’ve probed Dante a couple of times hoping to learn something about Nora’s situation, but all I’ve been told was that she was away doing what needs to be done.

The monsoon was in full force during lunchtime.

It left as quickly as it came; the air was dank with moisture when the rain cleared.

The compound of the villa was littered with rain moths. I glanced over at the boulder-like figure next to me. “Grilled moths are delicious,” I said casually. “Have you had any before?”

Danny was taken aback. “Had before,” he repeated, in broken English.

He looked like he understood. “Did you have them in a restaurant?” I asked with a grin. “I used to have them when I was little. Each time when it rained in my home, I would go out to the yard and pick them up. I’d give them a rinse and then throw them into a pan. When the wings are crispy, that’s when I’d add some oil and spices. It was delicious.”

lost in thought as though he recalled something within his memories and did not answer me. “It had just rained outside,” I pressed on. “If you’re worried about me running, why don’t you

“I’m just feeling nostalgic over the taste of fried moth. It was my

agreed in an

“Thank you, Danny!” I said as I

procured a basket from the kitchen and proceeded to fill it up with moths from the yard

of a dark hand over my basket only to realize that Danny had

fried

grunted but

entire basketful and headed back

was not familiar with the art of moth eating. But according to Tabitha, moths are a staple for people from

expression change, I think there was

differences, one’s experiences would

to sauté them for a while before adding some oil and seasoning to taste. The moths would soon turn from sticky to crispy, bloated with oil

of a promising scent, Danny could not help himself

know how to

I was young. But it’s been years since I’ve cooked this. I’m

offered Danny the plate

into a very rare smile as

bad!” he said as he turned to

had to eat things that other cultures would consider repulsive like