BELLA WATCHED THE HONEYBUNS with a kind of hero worship she’d never thought she’d engage in. She’d always been a sensible sort. Grounded in the natural world and immune to all things heroic and larger than life.
She’d always been pragmatic about life, viewing the world around her without romance. It was what it was. Minute particles of ionic substance, built up into objects of varying sizes, shapes, colors, and usefulness. No one person or object stood above the others, they were all essentially the same.
Until the Honeybuns. She’d never seen anything like the determined men assembled in that room.
They’d gathered quickly, spoken briefly in Honeybun shorthand, and had organized a meaty and impressive search engine that rivaled anything she’d seen in her time in New York city, where she’
