Ava
“We’ll need fresh herbs, a good cut of meat, some vegetables…”
Fabian tapped his fingers in succession on the steering wheel, counting off his list of groceries needed for tonight’s dinner with Betty. He was clearly excited, and I was glad for it; and I was certain that the company would also be nice in that lonely house of his.
“Don’t forget dessert,” Chris chimed in from the passenger seat. “Every good dinner needs a sweet ending.”
I nodded in agreement. “Maybe we could make a nice chocolate cake? Or a fruit tart?”
Fabian’s eyes lit up. “Betty loves strawberries. A strawberry tart would be perfect.”
We arrived at the store a few minutes later, a quaint little mom-and-pop shop in the middle of town. Upon stepping inside, however, we were met with rather sparse
