My stomach barked at me from neglect. I wasn’t quite sure, given the time difference, but my rudimentary calculation tallied more than twenty-four hours since my last meal. I picked a brush through my matted-to-face hair and contemplated putting on a new shirt, but the promise of food was just too tempting. I walked quickly down the hallway, only slowing my pace at the kitchen archway. I didn’t want to appear ravenous, though I was. Vigdis, spatula in hand, was at the stove. She turned, her appearance taking me by surprise. “Vigdis?” “Ah. Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Funny she should mention a fairy tale when she looked like she’d just stepped out of one. She wore a white lace-trimmed cotton blouse with puffed sleeves and a gathered neckline, over which was an elaborately embroidered lace-up vest. Her black full-length skirt was topped with a white lace apron; and she wore a funny black wool cap with a huge silver tassel that hung above her left ear. “Good morning,”
