Inside the main dining hall, most of the students were already seated, trays piled high with whatever the kitchen had managed to scrape together—mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and a few odds and ends that barely counted as sides.
After days of choking down crackers and protein bars, the warm food tasted like a five-star meal.
Ethan, Chris, and Henry sat together at a corner table, each with a generous helping of mac and cheese and a scoop of mashed potatoes. Not because they were picky—because that's all that was left.
"Man," Chris said, grinning as he shoveled in another bite, "after eating dry bread for days, I didn't know mac and cheese could taste this damn good."
"Even the mashed potatoes hit different," Henry mumbled, cheeks full. "Whoever cooked this—respect."
Ethan snorted. "Don't give them too much credit. These are just boiled potatoes mashed with salt and oil. No butter, no cream. Bare minimum."
