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ripped from their life at some factory, and a plaid button-up
shirt. Her hair was piled on top her head in a messy bun, and
even without makeup, she was a vision. No wonder people
liked watching her videos about her house. They probably
hung on for the moment when the dark-haired beauty stepped
in front of the lens.
“Yes,” she said, her metal flipper extended up straight in the
air. “I do.”
“Then you understand why I left.”
“Yes. Would you have done it if he hadn’t tried to force you
to marry someone you didn’t want to?”
That was a good question. Cassia wasn’t sure how to answer
that, so she glanced at the pan of eggs instead. As she
suspected, they were burning. She pointed them out and
Adalynn let out a yelp and rushed forward with the flipper,
trying to dislodge them from the bottom of the pan. She cursed
softly, almost out of hearing.
Cassia smiled softly to herself, but she hid it by turning
around to get a glass down from the cupboard. The kitchen
was adorable, with a white farmhouse sink, white appliances
probably from the fifties given their rounded edges and barely
working, energy consuming functions, and powder pink
cabinets. The countertop had been replaced at some time and
was made up with salmon pink square tiles with white grout in
between.
“I’ve seen some of your videos,” she said. “They’re
amazing.”
She turned to watch Adalynn trying to scrape the half-
burned eggs out of the pan onto two plates. She’d made
breakfast the day before instead of going outside early in the
