Freesia’s POV
It turned out that my appetite, the aspect of myself that I’ve despised for so long, was good for something after all.
I endured years of ridicule from Zarek and my classmates for being overweight. But somewhere along the way, I developed a keen attention to flavors and tastes in a way most never cared to.
Once I became more comfortable in my role at the bar–largely thanks to Daisy and the others–I began to experiment with crafting various cocktails. My first creation was something I called the Ashveil Mule: ginger beer, blueberry liqueur, a splash of lime juice with mint leaves for garnish.
I set two glasses on the counter one slow Tuesday night, and slid one toward Daisy without a word.
She took a sip. Her eyebrows went up. “Oh my god, Freesia. This is d
