We were in unusually high spirits as we bustled about the kitchen, preparing an elaborate

feast. The atmosphere was lighter than usual, almost as if the air itself carried the scent of

freedom we had been longing for. Even Lily, usually the most energetic of us, seemed more

vibrant, moving her hips in time to a tune only she could hear as she stirred a massive pot of

stew.

"Why are we rolling our eyes now?" she teased, catching my expression. "We should be

dancing." She twirled dramatically, the wooden spoon in her hand splashing a bit of broth

onto the floor.

I laughed, shaking my head as I sliced...