The "Little Bear" milk soda was undeniably delicious; that was a fact of nature in the eyes of a four-year-old. However, Melody didn’t quite reach the level of shouting for her mother in a fit of culinary ecstasy as Blanche had predicted.
Instead, she let out a tiny, hushed whisper. "Wow... wow, incredible... savvy?"
Ethan Gray stared at her with a flat expression. The exclamation was delivered with all the passion of a bored accountant filing a tax return. It was a clear, mechanical imitation of someone else’s excitement. Melody—the quiet, fragrant little "scented melon" of the academy—wasn't the type to offer such rehearsed pleasantries. It was painfully obvious she had picked up the phrase from Blanche.
While the two children huddled together on the rug, whispering in hushed tones ab
