The kitchen was hot and noisy; people came and went the entire time she was there. That entire staff for one rich prick, it boggled her mind. Every time she thought she could doze off, somebody would drop something or scream at somebody else. The worst were the guards who would wander through from time to time and hit on the girls in the kitchen. Columbia ended up pulling her hood up over her head and forcing herself to close her eyes. She drifted in and out of sleep. True to his word, she had been stowed somewhat away from the main traffic in the kitchen as far as she could tell. It was loud enough with the cook’s music blaring and the constant chatter that she felt safe to sleep with no fear of being heard. A couple of hours into her long day, the door to the cart opened. A smiling young Indian girl popped into view. “Hey, you need a bit of a stretch?” she asked in a crisp British accent. “Yes, how did you know I was in here?”
