The world spun, weaving a new stretch along the fabric of time. The hours ran by fast, a little too fast for Arabella's taste.
Hunched, leaning over the window seal, she'd nested her chin between her folded arms, watching the garden darkening by the minute.
From time to time, Edgar would pop behind the hedges and the trees, going back and forth with various tools in hand. It was clear he was getting ready to wrap his shift up as the sun drew closer towards the hills painting the horizon.
"Won't you eat anything, Miss?" Ada's voice brought her attention back into the already illuminated room.
Arabella turned her head slightly around to stare at the full and untouched dishes garnishing the table behind her.
"I don't feel hungry," she whispered, "I am sorry," she added even quieter than her first sentence.
"Yes, but…," Ada started but trailed off, finding no convincing argument to use.
