Page 111 of Once Upon a Fable

Tearing my attention off her, hating that she’d seen me slip, I spied a clear plastic box full of colorful packets.

Is that—

I fell on the box.

It is!

The creak of a seat sounded as Gemma turned to kneel instead of twist, watching me far too closely as I popped the latches and dragged the stash toward me.

Food.

Packaged food.

Holy shit, chocolate!

Hunger hit me like a cannonball, and I dived my fingers into the treasure, pulling out Snickers bars, M&Ms, Dairy Milk, Caramello, and every other Cadbury confectionery there was.

Choosing a plain bar of Dairy Milk, I tore at the purple wrapper and moaned the instant cocoa and sugar hit my tongue.

Good God, how had I survived so many years without sweets?

I looked up after my third massive bite, catching her eyes as she watched me with disdain, annoyance, and a tiny shred of curiosity. “Those are my emergency rations you’re wolfing down.”

“And they taste fucking brilliant.”

She sniffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, then by all means, please...help yourself.”

I narrowed my eyes, not liking her tone. “You ate my food. Fair’s fair.”

“Only difference is, my food has flavor.”

“Least my food comes straight from the ground. This is probably full of preservatives.”

“So stop eating it.”

I took another giant bite. “Can’t.”

Rolling her eyes, she let our little domestic fade before asking reluctantly, “I take it you haven’t had dessert in a while?” Her reluctance came from the same place my own questions did.

Asking me things meant she’d get to know me. She’d probably start to feel pity and sympathy. Already, snippets of compassion glowed beneath her anger at my entrapment.

Right now, she was justified in hating me.

I was the villain.

I liked that role. I’dearnedthat title.

So why did her reluctance to know me make my heart kick? Why could I read her as well as she seemed to read me?

Chewing slowly, I shoved those thoughts away. This girl was a trickster. A trespasser and I would not fall into whatever new trap she’d set.

“Well?” She huffed. “How long since you’ve had sugar?”

Finishing the chocolate, I swallowed before answering, “Not for seven years or so.”

Her forehead furrowed. “So, you’re telling the truth that you haven’tseen anyone in over a decade?”

I licked my lips and reached for a bottle of water, desperately thirsty now that I’d quenched a sugar-craving I hadn’t even known I had. Once I’d drunk my fill, I replied, “Eleven years or so. I don’t exactly remember.”