After lunch, the siblings sauntered through a nearby park while enjoying a cone of ice cream. It was Oliver's idea, the stroll, as he was quite full and it was a beautiful day. Ellie, on the other hand, had barely touched the food, and the ice cream was effectively her lunch. She was never one to be accused of gluttony; nonetheless, she couldn't ignore the fact that her already modest appetite had taken a serious hit these last few days.
"If only Michela could see us now," he mused in mirth. "Do me a favor, don't tell her we've had ice cream. She'd kill me."
"I have to say, I'm torn."
"About what? The flowers?"
She shook her head and finished her ice cream. "How I feel about the idea of her killing you."
Oliver escaped her menacing gaze and chipped away at his ice cream cone.
Ellie h
