Orange juice. I took my time eating. I heard a soft whirr.Oh. That makes sense. A camera in the cell. Can’t give me privacy can you? I give the came...a the finger and a sweet smile.Wait…I’m wearing his nightshirt. That means…“ASSHOLE! What did you do?”I threw a slice of plum and missed, “Dick!”Within a minute, the door opened. I crossed my arms. Tapping my foot. Him.“Good morning! Or should I say afternoon?”“You can go-“He tsked me. I hate that! I turned my head away and hmphed. He gave that. "Give it to me," she said."What?" No, not the money, you silly goose! I don't give a damn about your stupid money!" She looked steadily, seriously at me. "I was wrong again," she said sternly. "It's not the money after all. It's all the decisions you have to make!" Her features set into a hard mask. "Give them to me!"I blinked again. "What?" Give them to me! The decisions. Give them all to me! Let ME make them. You were never meant to be financier! You were meant to be a slave. Just like your. More

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