The air was filled with the sweet smell of roasted nuts and sugary pastries.
Marissa left him again and moved through the crowd with a light steps. She stopped at a small stall selling fried dough balls covered in honey.
"One, please," she said to the vendor.
Derek, standing right behind her like a tall, silent shadow, tossed a silver coin to the man.
"Keep the rest," Derek said.
Marissa took the warm treat. She bit into it. The honey was sticky and sweet. She giggled, licking a drop of syrup from her thumb.
Derek watched her. He watched the way her eyes crinkled at the corners. He watched the way she didn't care that she was getting sticky. Her inner child, long suppressed by the cruelty of her family and the coldness of the Thompson estate, was finally awakened.
She moved to the next stall. It sold spiced apple cider. She tasted it. She laughed when the steam tickled her nose.
