Ulla folds her arms over her chest. Bringing food was not the right approach to take. It's another reminder of Warren, sharp and painful. He always offers to feed her. Offered. She can't imagine getting free of this place, let alone earning a deal to get back to him. A part of her hopes desperately that he'll manage it, but most of her hates the temptation of hope.

She ignores the toast. "I don't know what you hope to accomplish."