Page 14 of The Obedient Lie
I paused at the door.
Muffins.
Not store-bought.
Delivered.
Still warm.
“Who ordered food?” I called.
Cameron was at the counter, shirtless, peeling the paper off a chocolate chip one.
Kingston was sitting on the arm of the couch with a second in hand, already halfway eaten.
They both looked up when I entered.
“Emilia,” Kingston said, mouth full. “Said she had them delivered from the bakery in town. The one I mentioned last week.”
He said it like it meantnothing.
But it meanteverything.
Because she’dremembered.
A throwaway comment, in passing.
Something Kingston had said on the way home from class — that he missed the muffins from Villain’s Sugar Crate.
No one cared when Kingston said shit like that.
No one listened long enough toremember.
Excepther.
And now they were sitting there, grinning like fucking schoolboys, eating muffins that had her name all over them.
“She went out?” I asked.
“She’s in the courtyard. Left these on the table with a note.”
I walked over, reading it silently.
Thought you could use a sugar boost — E.
I gritted my teeth.
Of courseshe was sweet.
Of courseshe thought of everyone.
Of courseshe made it impossible tohateher, even when she was beingstupidandnaiveand sayingyesto boys who’d rip her apart for sport.
She was killing ussoftly.
And we wereallletting her.
I grabbed one of the muffins. Didn’t eat it. Just held it.
