Chapter 8

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Cress choose not to sleep that night. She'd had to perfect of a day to ruin it by dreaming again. Instead, she decided to do something for the boys. After all, she was used to spending chilly nights giving herself something to do. This time it would actually be worth something.

She started by easing herself out of the bunk room, lightly hopping down the wooden steps until she made it to the kitchen on the first floor. It was the size of a garage, with dented copper pots and dried herbs hanging from the ceiling hooks. A large furnace was in the center, surrounded by several tables and a massive kitchen sink.

Cress bit her lip as she eyed the mess, absently rolling up her sleeves. This was going to take some time.

After washing all the dirty dishes, she added kindle to the fire and swept, throwing the entire bucket of dust, cobwebs, and food crumbs out the window. The icebox in the corner was filled with eggs and a few apples, which would have to do for their breakfast. She'd seen how tired the women always looked, having to get up so early only to have greedy little children rip their hard work out of their hands and mash it around.

As she cracked the eggs into a bowl and smashed herbs to pour into the mixture, she tried envisioning Scarlet and how she cooked every morning. See, Cress didn't exactly know how to do this. Her memory was the only thing helping her from not burning down the kitchen. But she had to repay these friends somehow, right? They'd taken her in without a backwards glance, and even thinking about it gave her a surge of happiness.

Grabbing a metal spoon from a cup, she tucked the bowl under her arm and stirred, humming under her breath. She hadn't been allowed much music when she was younger, but one day after being trapped in the blazing summer heat, she'd gone to open the window and heard the tune someone was playing in the street. It was a happy, upbeat little medley on the violin, and it forever stayed in the hidden place at the back of her head.

Now it came fully back to her, and with a grin, she let herself twirl, pouring the eggs into a sizzling pan as her toes tapped out the rhythm. Touch, step, touch, step, kick and twirl, stir, cut the apple, repeat. Over and over she sang, spinning and laughing, caught between worlds and loving the feeling.

Picking up the plates drying, she set them out around the tables, putting out the chairs around and washing off the tables as her voice carried throughout the room. Now that her dreadful skirt wasn't in the way, she was free to jump and twist as much as she pleased. Eventually she had to stop, she couldn't breathe through the giggles. With a content sigh she dumped the finished eggs into the nearest serving plate, moving to the next batch. Why not experiment a little? The newsies wouldn't care. So this time she added a pinch of basil and tomatoes she found at the back of the ice box. The third attempt was with cheese and oregano. (She was guessing the names of these herbs, the only place she'd learned was from a book on plants.)

By the time she'd gone through three baskets of eggs, it was four in the morning. Time for the bakers to be serving their fresh bread, and now that Cress had money, she'd really be able to give them a treat. She pushed the plate of eggs into the dying coals, hoping that would be enough to keep them from cooling.Taking off the apron she'd found by the door, she went to the sink.

A greasy glass mirror hung above the handles, and Cress was shocked by what she say. Her thin cheeks were a rose pink, spreading to her forehead, where the worry lines seemed nonexistent. Her eyes were bright and her hair had fallen into huge ringlets. She was a sweaty mess, with a brilliant smile. Cress didn't recognize the stranger in the beaming at her, but for the first time, that was ok. Because this time she knew she'd have a chance to get to know this new person. And they'd be the best of friends.

Tugging her boots over the thick socks she'd slept in, she headed out with a basket and her change to the farmer's market.

Well, it was more of a street alleyway filled with vendors eager for a quick and easy sale. Most were already setting out their wares, and Cress paused halfway to the middle of the street to just smell.

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