After breakfast, Dennise awoke from her nap in the afternoon.
The sun shone on her body through the curtain, not scorching hot, only a warm and toasty feeling, yet the light was dazzling.
Dennise clutched the thin quilt with both hands and tugged it up slightly, curling down as she made her last struggle.
The sound from her stomach forced Dennise to face reality.
Why did the dead still need to eat?
And even more than before?
It would be a breeze, like taking candy from a baby.
Timing it right, the long-hidden guard pushed the door and entered—