"Okay, from one to ten, how mad will your sister be?"
Straw's voice came out tight, thinner than she intended. She folded her arms, then unfolded them again, fingers twitching at her sides. Her gaze kept drifting back to the empty space in front of them, then away again, as if looking at it too long would make it worse.
"We should fix this before she gets back. It has been long since I saw my sister's wrath. I have been a good boy and I don't want to see it," Apple said as he called for a maid to pick up the scattered pieces on the floor and take them to the Atelier.
He spoke quickly, but his eyes betrayed him. They followed every shard as it was gathered, tracking the fragments like they were something alive. His jaw flexed once, then again, before he forced his shoulders to relax.
Now both Straw and Apple stood there, staring at the empty spot where the sculpture had once been, as if the pieces might somehow crawl back together and assemble themselves. The silence stretched.
