Elsa reaches under the bed and brings out a bucket of chocolates. She kneels by my side, cradling the thing as her face turns bright red. A bucket of chocolate? What the fuck? Wait. The name of the brand stares back at me. Maltesers. “When I grow up, I’m gonna buy you a bucket of Maltesers.” “Why?” “Because Dad says you have to buy gifts for the one you marry.” “Marry?” I whisper. “Yup!” She grins. “When I grow up, I’m going to marry you.”
