I should have just listened to Olivia in the first place. God, I hate when she’s right. Decision made, I veer into the kitchen and toward the stove where I left the pan to cool. Wanting to make the brownies extra tempting, I bought a tub of chocolate frosting and left it sitting on the counter.
My footsteps slow as I realize the frosting has been opened. The foil wrapper from the top lies crumpled on the countertop. I glance from the frosting to the dessert, and my heart plummets. A third of the brownies has already been hacked from the pan. Crumbs cling to the stainless-steel knife that rests against the dark metal.
I’m too late.
My plan has unwittingly been set in motion, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Daisy?”
My head jerks up at the sound of my cousin’s voice. I peek through the kitchen opening and see Noah and his girlfriend lounging on the couch in the living room, watching TV.
Oh no.
It doesn’t take much to put two and two together.
“Hi,” I squeak out.
What am I supposed to do now?
Tell him?
Or wait it out and see what happens?
I didn’t even eat the brownies, and I feel sick to my stomach.
“Hey, did you make those brownies?” Noah’s arm is slung around Ashley, and she’s cuddled up against his side.
What do I do?
What do I do?
What do I do?
Calm down and just breathe. “Um, yeah.” I cough to clear the nervousness from my voice. “Why?”
I’m kicking myself for not listening to Olivia.
“Because they were seriously tasty.” He flashes me a grin. “I hope you weren’t saving them for something special.”
Oh God.
I glance at the pan, wishing I could rewind time.
Maybe it’s not as bad as I think. Only a little more than a third is missing. I look at Noah and Ashley and try to rationalize my way out of this situation. They probably shared the dessert. If they each had a huge hunk, how much damage could the laxatives do to their systems? It’ll clean out their bowels for sure, but it’s not going to kill them.
Right?
Right?
They’ll be fine. This isnota big deal. There’s no need to tell them about the secret ingredient. I brighten at the thought that they might not have finished their pieces. Who eats all their dessert, anyway?
I mean,Ido, but still…
I bet if I check the trash can, I’ll find a good portion of it in there.
The tight knot sitting in my belly loosens. “No, I didn’t make them for anything special.”
You know what else?
