MARCELINE'S HOME
POV GREY
Marceline's home was nice and warm, the sun was setting outside, and a chill had started outside. Her home, with its mismatched furniture and books strewn about, felt more like a home than my own. I had never really taken a closer look. Our first meeting had been so quick I never truly looked around.
While her parents cooked in the kitchen, I wandered around. They had several bookshelves filled with books and picture frames. There were pictures of Marceline as a child, her cheeks chubby and hair a frazzled mess.
I picked up one where tiny Marceline was shoving a dandelion into her mouth, "I see you came out of the womb with plant experience," I said, showing her the picture.
She laughed, "My mother said that I quickly learned which plants were edible since I
