Ripley's POV

Ripley stirred at the pot on the stove. It boiled and steamed and sputtered.

She turned her back on the pot and got a bowl out of the cupboard. She was humming along with the song playing out of her little speakers, content.

She felt like she was still high off the relief from her call with Cory earlier this afternoon.

The noodles were done, so she drained them and plopped them into the blue bowl she had set out. She cut chunks of butter on it and ...