“Oh? What’s going on here? Are you praying over your food?” Lee quipped as he and Simone walked into the kitchen, spotting Samantha at the table, her eyes locked onto the plate in front of her.
“Or maybe she’s chanting some kind of spell over it,” Simone added, smirking. “Who’s the unlucky victim?”
Samantha’s lips curled in mild annoyance as she turned to face them.
“What? Why the look? Did we say something offensive?” Lee teased, stepping closer. “Wait, did you actually cook this?” His gaze dropped to the plate with genuine curiosity.
“The real mystery is—what exactly did she make?” Simone mused, leaning in as if inspecting the food for hidden secrets.
Samantha shot him a dagger-like glare.
“Oh, come on! Don’t look at me like I just insulted your ancestors,” Simone chuckled, reachin
