She was dealing with the one and only Opehlia—
—The Queen of Overthinking, Protector of Soups, and Champion of Unnecessary Guilt!
Isabella sighed. Loudly. The type of sigh that screamed "why is this girl like this?" and "I'm too beautiful to deal with emotional breakdowns before lunch."
"Opehlia," she said, voice half amused, half tired, "I didn't say your cooking was bad."
Opehlia froze. Like a deer caught in the glare of a divine judgment.
"You... you didn't?" she whispered, voice cracking like thin ice.
"No. I said throw everything away because..." Isabella leaned in dramatically, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Someone tried to poison me."
—CRASH!
Opehlia dropped the wooden spoon she had been gripping like a weapon of pride. It rolled away like her remaining sanity.
Opehlia blinked twice, her mind racing to catch up with Isabella's words. Poison? In their soup? No, that couldn't be true!
