“Okay, I’m worried,” I admitted. “About you. And me. I don’t know the answer to your question.” Meg nodded. “But we have to try.” “Together, then,” I said. “One more time, into the lair of the Beast.” “Peaches,” Peaches murmured. Meg smirked. “He says he’ll stay here at camp. He needs some me time.” I hate it when fruit spirits have more sense than me.
