EMMA
I was busy for the rest of the morning, and I didn't stop for lunch until it was nearly two o'clock. I'd just settled at the table in the staff lounge with a veggie wrap and chips when Deacon came in.
"Hey." He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. "That smells good. What're you eating?"
I lifted my wrap. "Homemade roasted vegetables-broccoli, asparagus, peppers and turnips-with a vegan garlic aioli. It's amazing."
He grimaced. "I don't know how you can eat that stuff. Don't you miss hamburgers and grilled cheese sandwiches and fried chicken?"
I took a bite of my wrap, chewed and swallowed. "I honestly don't. Every now and then, I miss something little-like cheese fondue. Dipping bread into that melted Swiss cheese and then sticking it into your mouth . .
