The sweet, mouthwatering aroma of freshly cooked food gently wakes me from my sleep. My eyes flutter open, blinking against the light in the room as I slowly sit up, stretching my sleep-stiffened muscles with a contented sigh.
A smile tugs at my lips as Beatrice bustles into the room, a laden food tray balanced expertly in her hands. An intoxicating aroma instantly wafts towards me - the unmistakable rich, creamy fragrance of her famous shrimp pasta, making my stomach rumble in anticipation.
"Thank you," I murmur as she sets the tray down on my lap with a flourish.
Beatrice returns my smile, her warm eyes crinkling at the corners as she takes a seat on the edge of my bed. "How was your sleep, dear?" she asks, her voice laced with gentle care and concern.
"Good," I assure her, picking
