Page 271 of A Vicious Love

“What?”

“You’re staring again.”

“Yes.”

“At frogs?”

“No.”

Her shoulder shook with a laugh.

Mila looked between us. “Aunt Sienna, you said frogs like quiet.”

“So I did.” Sienna cleared her throat, cheeks pink. “Everyone quiet.”

Everyone obeyed.

Including me.

Disgusting.

Tomas lowered the magnifying glass toward a patch of mud.

“Other way,” I said.

“Oh.” He turned it. “Now everything is bigger.”

“That is generally the point.”

“What if the frog is too big?”

“Then we retreat and call men with nets.”

Nell’s eyes widened. “Do you own men with nets?”

“I can acquire them.”

Mila stepped closer to the water, one sandal sinking into the mud with a wet sound.

She stopped.

Her eyes dropped.

The mud had eaten half her foot. For one suspended second, her expression remained brave. Then her lower lip shifted.

No.

Absolutely not.

I had faced armed men with more optimism than I felt watching that lip tremble.

I moved before the tear formed, lifted her under the arms, and set her on my hip. Honey ended up crushed between us, his rabbit face against my chest.

“My shoe,” Mila said.

“It deserted.”

“Save it.” Her lip trembled harder.