Being in this place was strange. The people were all off, for one thing. No one was normal. Of course, her normal wasn't as normal as she'd thought, once--what with her grandfather and his past. Still, they were simple enough hard-working folk.
She had to admit, though, she liked the clothes. No one wanted her to pay for them, and she could wear things that were much higher quality than what she made herself, or, when she had extra, could buy from shops. Today she was wearing a blue skirt and a matching jacket over a pale pink blouse, with matching ribbons twined into her hair.
With a sigh, she let herself into the kitchen. While she was used to preparing food for herself, it was difficult when half the time she didn't know what things were. And even her sandwiches felt wrong. They missed the special flare that made her grandfather's shop so popular.
As she neared the icebox, she stopped, a pained expression on her face. Oh, no. Why did she have to deal with this today? Maxim both infuriated and intrigued her, and she didn't have the energy to sort it all out. But leaving would be extremely rude, and she was hungry. Or, she had been. She glanced at the blood running down his chin, feeling slightly queasy.