“Oh! We could add some ribbon if we ask Cordelia for any scraps,” Phoebe offered.
“Did either of you purchase any food for this week?” I interrupted, sucking on my cigarette.
“Not yet—” Addie adjusted her bonnet impatiently.
“Isn’t that more important than decorations?” I mumbled, having to relight a match for another puff.
“It’s stew this week. I just need a few more herbs; the rest comes from my father’s shop. We just got in some cuts of pork.”
“Pork.” Phoebe wrinkled her nose.
“You won’t be eating the pork; why are you complaining?” Rebecca raised a brow.
“I don’t like the aftertaste in the blood,” Phoebe grumbled.
A soft-spoken mutter piqued from behind me, barely audible among the market chaos and the redhead in my ear.
Phoebe, Rebecca, and Adeline averted their eyes in unison, huddling the group closer together like startled geese.
“We can’t possibly be expected to hear you when you speak like a mouse, dear,” Phoebe said, withholding a smirk as best she could when Rebecca snorted, turning to hide the laughter.
I craned my neck over my shoulder.
Edith stood, admittedly a bit embarrassed, as she clutched a basket. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Snickering ensued beside me, and my head snapped in the direction of the girls, who pressed their lips and bit their cheeks as if they weren’t chittering to each other. Phoebe was unable to hide a subtle clicking.
“I’ll go?—”
“No. Edith, walk with me.” I held my hand out, grasping at the air between us to urge her along.
I managed a glare in Phoebe’s direction before Edith caught up with my stride; one of mine was two of hers.
“I really can go somewhere else if you were in the middle?—”
“They were on my nerves.” I sucked on the last bit of burning paper before flicking it into the snow.
“Speaking of...” Edith began, rummaging through her basket before pulling out a small jar.
“What is that?”
“Christmastime gift.” Edith smiled, a blush glowing in the apples of her cheeks.
I held the small jar up. Small, dried flowers with a dusting of warm pollen powdering the inside of the jar. “Cannabis?”
“I-I heard you weren’t sleeping.” Edith glowed with excitement. “And before you say it! I didn’t spend any!”
“We already steal too much from the hospital.”
My words made her nearly physically stumble. “But we give a lot to the hospital too.” Her voice became shaky with uncertainty. “I just thought?—”
Edith bit the inside of her cheek, unable to say what she needed.
I pulled Edith in, my arms wrapping around her shoulders. I squeezed her frail body gently. “Thank you; I will use some tonight,” I said before she could throw herself into an anxious rant. Just the wordsthank youseemed to calm the flighty thing. She was well-meaning, even if it was an invasion of my privacy.
“Did I do something wrong?” she muttered into my cloak.
“No, no. Everyone is just anxious. Holidays and all.” I glanced down at her. “How are you doing?”
