As if summoned by some hungry ancient being with a primal instinct hardwired into the human brain stem—the ability to detect free food across any distance in any environment—Sarah materialized at Pete's elbow.
Iris and Bryan flanked her like a well-coordinated extraction team.
"Yeah," Sarah said, her tone managing to be both aggrieved and delighted at the same time. "How could you keep the goodies to yourselves? Do you have any idea what it smells like from over there? I've been suffering."
Bryan simply extended an open palm and waited.
Iris said nothing, but the look on her face had some kind of expectation.
Neville's lips twitched—a complicated expression that was half guilt, half amusement, and half resignation.
"Of course you all get some," he said, already reaching into the bag. "I brought plenty."
Neville distributed the oatmeal cookies like done many times before.
Sarah bit into hers and made a moaning sound.
