Chapter 7
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I spend a restless night and wake the following morning feeling as though I haven’t slept at all. For several minutes I lie in a tangle of sheets and blankets and crushed rose petals, staring out through the filmy curtains to the view beyond. I’m not able to see much from this position—the top of a tree and the blue, cloud-filled sky—but the view is just a point to focus on while I work up the energy to get out of bed and join the day.
There’s a knock at the door and Lester appears.
“I have your breakfast, sir,” he says.
I see he has a tray laden with breakfast fare.
“Thank you, Lester. How considerate.”
He brings the breakfast tray, with its little legs, across to me, in bed.
“How’s Eduardo this morning?” I ask.
Lester places the breakfast tray over my legs and steps back. “He’s feeling a little better. I just took him a tray of breakfast, though I doubt he’ll eat much of it.”
I nod. “Thank you, Lester.”