Aria’s POV

“Relax your grip, dear. You don’t want to strain your wrist.” The woman in front of me was smiling, her voice soft as she explained how to hold the knife properly.

But her words blurred into background noise. I wasn’t paying attention. My scowl deepened, and I dragged the knife across the cutting board with zero effort.

The enthusiasm she had? I had none of it. My mind kept circling back to the fact that Jameson left me here, stranded in this... kitchen prison. This ...