"It's alright," the old man said. "I have something to keep my mouth busy."
Grace blinked slowly.
"You do?" she asked. "But I don't recall giving you any gum."
The old man looked down at the crumpled paper in his hand.
Had he not stopped talking,
had he not raised his hand,
it would have gone into his mouth anyway.
There was no way out.
Slowly, he lifted the paper, crumpled it tighter, and shoved it into his mouth.
He began to chew.
The paper was thick.
The ink was bitter.
But he forced himself to smile as he chewed.
"This is more than enough," he said.
"Your paper… has quite an interesting flavor. I don't need any other entertainment."
Grace watched him quietly.
Then she smiled.
"I'm very glad to hear that," she said softly.
"That document took a great deal of effort to prepare. I'm happy to know it's being appreciated."
She turned slightly to Jessie.
"Since Mr. Everworth seems to enjoy it so much, please prepare more for him. Let's say… twenty more copies. And perhaps a small bottle of the same ink as well, since he seems to enjoy the flavor."
She looked back at the old man.
"Please enjoy your snack, Mr. Everworth," she said calmly.
"We still have some time before my sisters arrive."
The old man continued chewing in silence, his hands shaking slightly, his face pale.
No one in the room spoke.
He had thought he was in a secure room.
A protected room.
A room where nothing could happen to him.
What he did not realize—