Micaela's pov.

*Escape*

“So what did he say after you told him I couldn't come down for dinner?” I asked, my eyes moving from Mara’s face to the tray in her hand.

“Well,” she muttered, a small smile on her face. “Nothing much, he understood that you needed rest.”

I watched as she dropped the tray on the table beside my bed and then went on to take off the lids of the plates.

My stomach groaned as I saw the content: a garden salad with fresh greens, cherry tomatoes, ...