Eighteen
I arrived at the Forked Tail panting and sweating, two large bags in each hand that threatened to tear my arms off. Huffing and puffing, I kicked the door to the kitchen open and fell into the Forked Tail.
From by the stove, Lana snapped around, armed with a ladle and a pan lid. “Stop, whoever you are! This is private proper— Oh. Demi? What are you doing here?”
I strained as I put the two shopping bags on the counter. “I thought about what you said about having to do this alone and decided that you’re wrong. I know I’m not gifted with food the way you are but I’m not letting you shut me out.”
Lana just stared at me, taken off guard. She gestured to the two shopping bags. “What are those?”
“This is every brand of soy sauce and tamari I could find in the city. I figured we coul
