The floorboards sang a traitorous symphony beneath Belle's tiptoeing steps, each creaking a tiny drumbeat announcing her midnight mission. Hunger gnawed at her insides, a persistent, relentless pest that refused to be soothed by empty glasses of water. A glance at the illuminated clock on the wall made her wince. 12:15 AM. Far too late to disturb the slumbering nurses with the clatter of raided cabinets.
With a resigned sigh that escaped in a puff of cool air, she reached for the familiar oak cabinet. Her fingertips brushed the cool porcelain of a hidden compartment, a secret haven from prying eyes. Relief washed over her like a tidal wave as her fingers closed around the prize - a stash of chocolate chip cookies, their aroma a siren song to her senses.
Unaware of any audience, bathed in
