“Why?”
“I want to serve it nicely for48 you.”
It even seemed romantic at the time.
A few minutes later, he called me back. A single slice of pie was waiting on the table. Victor sat across from me and watched
until I had eaten every bite.
The same thing happened the next day. And the day after that. I baked the entire pie, but as soon as it came out of the oven,
Victor always sent me out of the kitchen. When I returned, he would place a slice in front of me and carefully watch me eat it.
He never ate any himself. At first, I didn’t think much of it. But after a few days, I noticed that my slice sometimes tasted
different. One day, it was more bitter than usual. Another day, it had a strange metallic taste.
“Are you adding something to it?” I asked.
Victor froze for a moment.
“No.”
His answer came far too quickly.
