“What’s your favorite food?” I asked her. Even though the question came out rough, my voice ragged and tired and not at all how I wanted it to be, Greer exhaled a short burst of laughter. “Apple pie,” she said. “That’s a dessert.” “So?” Her eyes were shining. “Who says dessert can’t be your favorite food?” “But…” I scratched the side of my jaw. “Your favorite food is something you’d have for a meal.” “You’ve clearly never had leftover pie for breakfast, and it shows.” She patted me on the stomach.
