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[dated to January 26]
Saffron has cooked meals for others dozens of times in Darrow alone. Tracking back to the island, to her life before, it may number into the hundreds, she doesn't know for sure. But this meal she's cooked for tonight, this is a meal that's required a little more preparation, a little more research. Because this meal has to blow someone's socks off. It's not just food for Saffron, it's strategy. It's another way to get her into the position she wants to be with Molokov, a step closer to being in the perfect place to pull out her final and devastating card.
She's patient. She's always been patient. And that means Saffron's going to be careful with this, because she wants to pave her way smoothly, doesn't want anything to get messed up. Every time she thinks of Anatoly, she knows she needs to see this through for him. And she regrets nothing.
So when she steps into the elevator of Molokov's apartment building, the box she's holding contains a veritable feast - shchi, pelmeni, vegetables, pirozhki filled with mashed potatoes, and a vatrushka. She let him know when they planned this dinner that all he needed to provide was the alcohol, and Saffron is sure he will be pleased when he sees what she's brought.
She presses the button for the eighth floor, her finger hovering only a moment over the seven. Heading to Molokov's door, she shifts the box in her arms and rings the bell, smoothly adopting a sweet and slightly nervous smile.
She's patient. She's always been patient. And that means Saffron's going to be careful with this, because she wants to pave her way smoothly, doesn't want anything to get messed up. Every time she thinks of Anatoly, she knows she needs to see this through for him. And she regrets nothing.
So when she steps into the elevator of Molokov's apartment building, the box she's holding contains a veritable feast - shchi, pelmeni, vegetables, pirozhki filled with mashed potatoes, and a vatrushka. She let him know when they planned this dinner that all he needed to provide was the alcohol, and Saffron is sure he will be pleased when he sees what she's brought.
She presses the button for the eighth floor, her finger hovering only a moment over the seven. Heading to Molokov's door, she shifts the box in her arms and rings the bell, smoothly adopting a sweet and slightly nervous smile.