Silence filled the air.
He waited, but heard nothing.
"Melody?" He called, louder this time, his voice carrying down the hall.
A beat passed. Then her voice came back from the direction of the kitchen. "I'm in here."
His stomach answered before he could, erupting into a long rumble that made the decision for him.
He pushed himself off the bed and followed the smell of something cooking down the hall.
Melody was at the stove, her back to him, a wooden spoon in her hand. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard him come in.
"Sit down," she said. "It's almost ready."
He pulled out a chair and sat. "What are you making?"
"Chicken stew." She stirred without looking back. "It's one of the two things I can cook without setting anything on fire. Reliably, anyway."
Lukas said nothing and sat with the smell of it, which was doing good things for his appetite.
