Evie Stanton

“What did those carrots do to you?” Bells asked, eyebrows high in her hairline at the hack job in front of me.

I paused my chopping, looking down at the mangled carrots on my cutting board, all different sizes. Thane got under my skin earlier, and the produce was taking the brunt of my frustration. “Sorry.”

Bells opened the oven, checking on the roast chicken and all the browning potatoes and squash surrounding it. ...