Lucy
“The bad lady stuffed me in the trunk,” I said, slamming the refrigerator door angrily. “Then she locked me in the closet.”
His mouth dropped open for a moment, and then it snapped closed. “You’re Beth’s little girl, aren’t you?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Yeah I am. I bet you’re her Daddy, aren’t you?”
"Yes, I am.” His eyes moved to the fridge. “Are you hungry?”
I stuck out my lower lip. “You don’t have any good food.”
“What kind of food do you want?”
“Hot chocolate.”
He chuckled a little bit, “Is that food or a beverage?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’s my favorite.”
“Well…” he went to the cupboard, stood on his tiptoes and reached into the very back of the top shelf. He felt around until he retrieved a box of store-brand hot chocolate; the powdered kind that came in
