By the time Laura Croft finally changed into an outfit she considered neither too casual nor too formal for breakfast, the Witches had already left the master of the manor and Milia at the dining table and taken the Red-haired Witch and the psychiatric patient to the third sitting room for their usual morning wine. Before long, they would set off for the Art Museum to meet Athena, who was coming from New York, in the afternoon, then tour the exhibition of Vanessa, the famous postmodern painter. Laura Croft watched as the master of the manor fed the girl with a fork while calmly and precisely describing something she vaguely recalled hearing about. "A living chocolate amphibian, Milia," the master of the manor asked. "What should you do?"
Milia struggled to swallow the oversized piece of beef. She considered it seriously. "Shoot it! Cutting it up with a knife would be even better!"
"That's my good girl. Don't forget, anyone who puts something like that in their mouth deserves a bullet too."
"No parent in the world has ever encouraged their child to shoot things while reading the Harry Potter series to them!" Laura Croft could not help curling her lip. That interpretation was so absurd it was almost comedic. "It's a story about love, isn't it?"
"I believe that in Texas, children under ten generally read this story alongside a .22 caliber firearm. Those over ten use 9mm, and only when they get older do they use .40 or .45 caliber ammunition. The caliber should increase gradually. Only then can weak-wrist malfunctions be avoided while protecting bones and ligaments that have not fully developed."
"No, I meant... forget it." As Laura Croft waited for the maid to bring food to the table, she secretly studied the tall man seated