Leah heard that this place was known for its violet-pink sunsets.
Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on their side today.
She stood on the bridge for over an hour, but the sunset never appeared. Giving up, the group decided to leave and head to the shopping district instead. At the entrance, an old man was selling homemade yogurt. Orson, always craving something, bought himself a bowl, while Leah’s attention was drawn to the handcrafted pure milk ice cream cones.
She bought one.
Three dollars.
Accepting the cone with both hands, Leah took a small bite. The creamy texture melted in her mouth, sweet but not overwhelming. Just as she was about to take a second bite, Frederick’s deep voice sounded from above her, “Eat just a little to see if you can tolerate lactose.”
Leah rolled her
