Chapter 39: The Cost of Hunger

I shrugged, picking up the plastic bag from the floor. The contents were modest, but hunger gnawed at my insides with enough urgency to make me appreciate whatever was inside. Trudging over to the wall, I slid down until I sat on the cold floor, my back resting against the hard surface. The black plastic bag sat on my lap, and I stared at it for a moment, contemplating what could be in it. My stomach growled, louder now, encouraged by the scent of food. “Well, I’m hungry,” I muttered to myself, glancing at the storeroom door, half-expecting someone to rush in and claim the bag. When no one did, I pulled out a bottle of water. After twisting the cap off, I took a long, grateful drink, letting the cool liquid soothe my parched throat. I drank greedily, knowing I needed the energy. Setting the bottle aside, I peered inside the bag again and pulled out the main attraction: a thick slice of bread stuffed with bits of fish and meat. My mouth watered at the sight. “What could go wrong?” I