Mills was a resourceful girl, but some aspects of living on the street come easier than being trapped within a dungeon like the Asylum. She had never been formerly admitted, she just showed up one day with a can of spray paint and fueled by a dare. It was a stupid dare. That and torrential rain. By the time she had ridden out the storm, she was trapped, and the guards had driven home the fact that she was never going to leave. That assumed, of course, that she had nothing to say on the matter. She had plenty to say. But right now, there was something else that had more to say: her stomach.
Growling angrily, it announced for the umpeenth time that she was a shoddy caretaker and it was going above her head to protest. The gurgles filled the hallway. She wanted to yell at it, but that would have drawn more attention to her than it needed to. She hadn't eaten since she shared that chocolate with Zhu...
Where do they get their food? The patients were often underweight but they were not dying of starvation. There had to be a source of food. A cafeteria or a food cart. She had found neither. That did not, however, mean they did not exist, just that she could have missed them. She hid out a lot more frequently than she liked to admit. And the patients she had met previously, she had not seen a second time, so it was difficult to ask them now.
She ducked into a doorway that lead to a darkened hall. It looked like a cafeteria, but between hours it was rather empty. Nevertheless she scooted along the walls as much as possible, in case someone tried to jump her and steal her boots or something.
