Nothing left to do now but eat.Sylvie picked up a fork.
The crust was buttery. The cream was rich with vanilla and egg. If it weren’t for the pie’s intrusive nature, it would’ve beendelicious!
Kitty eyed the plate. “I see disappointment … but also a chance for redemption and a journey … quite unexpected.”
“Bet it’s a one-way ticket home,” said someone Sylvie suspected was Darius.
“Silence!” shouted Godard.
Kitty pointed to a smear of custard. “I’ve never seen a shape quite like this one… . Danger is near. Enemies and friends … so closely connected.” Her fingers traced the crumbs.
Sylvie felt her face grow warm. It sounded like the pie was talking about Georgia. She was glad they were friends now, and hoped the enemy part was in the past.
A glint suddenly caught her eye. For a moment, Sylvie thought it was a bit of flour still sailing through the air. But it wasn’t.
A cwtch raced toward her head. Sylvie ducked just in time. It landed with a splat in the pie. Ribbons of custard shot across Kitty’s cardigan. The frog jumped out of her pocket.
Kids started laughing.
Secret, or maybe it was Sauce, locked eyes on the frog, while the other chased after the cwtch. The cat leapt up, knocking the table over.
“No! Bad cat.” Kitty lunged forward and grabbed the frog, but thanks to the pie, the floor had turned slippery. She spun around, falling off the stage.
Crack!
Kitty let out a wail, just as one of the cats pounced on the cwtch.
Bam!
Guy’s voice rang out. “Welcome students! What an exciting day to be at Brindille!”
You have no idea,thought Sylvie.
Godard rushed past. “Sylvie, come help me!”
Sylvie jumped up and slid over to where Kitty was slumped over.
“Move her into a seated position,” said Godard. Kitty let out a moan as Godard examined her swollen wrist. “Can you move your fingers?”
“N-no.” Kitty clutched the frog in her good hand.
Godard gestured toward Madame Lopez, who hustled over. “I think she’s broken her wrist, Lupe.”
“B-but it can’t be broken.” Kitty stared at the two women. “The Commis Contest is tomorrow. I have pies to bake and a parade to lead.”
“Don’t worry, Kitty.” Madame Lopez examined her. “You’ve snapped the wrist… . But a hearty bowl of pozole and a day of rest should fix it. However, if you want to be back in shape by tomorrow, I better get my remedy rojo cooking!”
Godard nodded. “You go. I’ll help Kitty back up to the school. When the soup is ready, bring it to my office.”
“I’ll see you in a few hours,” said Madame Lopez, hurrying off.
Kitty stared after her. “B-but what about my puff pastry? It still needs two folds and turns before tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, Kitty. I’ll see to it,” said Godard reassuringly. “Sylvie. Give me a hand. We need her on her feet.”
Sylvie slipped one arm around Kitty’s waist. With the other, she slid the letter into Godard’s pocket as they hoisted Kitty up. She watched as the two women slowly made their way through the sea of clamoring teachers and students, Secret and Sauce trailing behind them.
Georgia came and stood next to Sylvie. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
