His eyes immediately became watery, tears welling up at the corners.
His small chest heaved with the effort of holding back his sobs.
Oh no.
He was about to cry.
“What?” I quickly stood up and lifted him onto my lap, cradling his small body against mine.
He felt so fragile in my arms, so vulnerable.
“Fish?” I pulled his plate closer and pretended to inspect it carefully, squinting at the offending piece of fish as though I’d never seen it before.
I turned it over, examining it from every angle.
“Oh…” I widened my eyes dramatically.
“Heavens.” “What?” Theo sniffled, his voice trembling.
“I completely forgot.” “You forgot what?” I slapped my forehead, the sound sharp in the quiet kitchen.
“The Goddess!” Theo blinked, his tears momentarily forgotten.
His brow furrowed in confusion.
“…The Goddess?” “Yes.” “I completely forgot she left us fish this morning.” Garrett nearly choked on his drink, his hand flying to his mouth.
He coughed loudly, covering the sound with a sputter.
His shoulders shook with the effort of suppressing his reaction.
Theo looked between the stew and me, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“…She did?” “Mm-hmm.” “When?” “This morning.” “While you were outside playing.” Theo frowned thoughtfully, his small face scrunching up as he tried to process this information.
His lips pursed, his eyes darting as he thought.
“…Why would the Goddess give us fish?” I placed a hand over my chest, my voice soft and reverent.
“How should I know?” “The Goddess works in mysterious ways.” Across the table, Garrett slowly rubbed his forehead, his palm covering his eyes.
He looked as though he regretted surviving.
I pretended not to notice.
“Why would she do that?” Theo cried, his eyes filling with fresh tears.
“Why would she kill these innocent fish?” I sighed dramatically and lowered my head, my shoulders slumping.
I let out a long, heavy breath.
“…Why would she?” I shook my head sadly, my voice thick with sorrow.
“Why would she do something so cruel?” Theo’s lips trembled, his small hands clutching at my sleeve.
His fingers were cold, his grip desperate.
“You shouldn’t have taken them.” “I know.” “You should’ve sent them back.” “I wanted to.” I nodded sadly, my eyes downcast.
“I really did.” Theo sniffled loudly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
His cheeks were wet, his eyes red.
“Then why didn’t you?” I placed a hand over my chest, my expression earnest and pained.
“I begged her.” “You did?” “I did.” “I told her, ‘Your Grace, please take these poor fish back.'” I let out another sigh, heavy and dramatic.
“I even asked Garrett to help me convince her.” I turned toward Garrett, widening my eyes meaningfully.
“Right, Garrett?” I asked.
There was a long silence.
Garrett’s expression was unreadable, his jaw tight.
I could see the battle playing out in his head, the struggle between honesty and the need to support my ridiculous lie.
“…Yeah,” Garrett finally answered in a resigned voice.
“I told her too.” Theo immediately looked at him, his eyes wide.
“You did?” “I did.” Garret replied.
I nodded solemnly.
“But she refused.” “She wouldn’t listen to either of us.” “Then…” I spread my hands helplessly, palms up.
“…she disappeared.” Theo gasped, his small mouth dropping open.
“She left?” “Without even looking back.” Theo’s tears started flowing again, streaming down his cheeks.
They dripped onto his tunic, leaving dark spots on the fabric.
“Why?” He asked “How could she be so heartless?” “I know.” I pulled him into a hug, pressing his head against my shoulder.
His small body was warm against mine, his sobs muffled by my tunic.
“She even forced the basket into my hands before she left.” “I tried giving it back.” “I really did.” “But she wouldn’t take it.” Theo buried his face against my shoulder, his small body shaking with sobs.
His hands fisted in my tunic, clinging to me.
“No…” “And I couldn’t just leave those poor fish outside.” I rubbed his back gently, my hand moving in slow circles.
The motion was soothing, rhythmic.
“They would’ve rotted.” Theo immediately shook his head against my chest.
“No!” “That’s even worse!” “Exactly.” I nodded, my voice soft and understanding.
“If we left them there, all their sacrifice would’ve been for nothing.” I could hear Garrett shifting quietly in his chair.
He hadn’t interrupted me once, though I could feel his attention fixed on the conversation.
The silence from his direction was almost louder than words.
“We had no choice.” I spoke as though it were the most reasonable thing in the world.
“We had to cook them.” The dining became strangely quiet.
Even Garrett didn’t say anything, the silence stretching between us.
“We couldn’t let their lives go to waste,” I continued softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
“The fish gave up their lives.” “The least we could do…” “…was appreciate their sacrifice.” Theo sniffled, his shoulders still shaking “But…” “Fish are full of nutrients.” I gently wiped away one of his tears, my thumb brushing across his cheek.
“They help little children grow big and strong.” “If we refused to eat them…” I lowered my voice, leaning in close.
“…their whole lives would’ve been wasted.” Theo looked down at his plate, his eyes still glistening.
The stew sat there, warm and inviting, the piece of fish still visible among the vegetables.
“Don’t you think…” I smiled gently, my voice warm and reassuring.
“…they’d be happier knowing they helped someone?” “Someone who loves animals as much as you do?” Theo slowly nodded, his lower lip still trembling.
“…Maybe.” I rubbed his back, my hand moving in soothing circles.
“That’s what I think too.” He wiped his eyes, his small hand rubbing at his cheeks.
His breaths were still ragged, but the sobs were beginning to ease.
“The Goddess…” He sniffled.
“…is wicked.” I nodded without hesitation.
“She’s dumb.” From across the table came the unmistakable sound of Garrett clearing his throat.
It sounded suspiciously like he was trying not to laugh.
Theo nodded firmly, his expression serious.
“Very dumb.” “The dumbest.” “The absolute dumbest,” I agreed.
Theo looked back at his plate, his small face still blotchy.
The tears had stopped, leaving only red-rimmed eyes and a runny nose.
After a long moment, he picked up his spoon and took a tiny bite of the stew.
He chewed slowly, thoughtfully, his brow furrowed.
The spoon moved in small, hesitant motions.
He swallowed.
“I hate it,” he declared, his voice firm.
“We all do,” I said with a solemn nod before turning toward Garrett.
“Right, Garrett?” There was another brief silence.
“…Yes.” His voice was unusually strained, tight with suppressed emotion.
“We all hate it.” The moment he finished speaking, he cleared his throat again.
This time, it was obvious he was trying very hard not to laugh.
His shoulders shook slightly, his lips pressed together tightly.
A faint tremor ran through his frame.
My ridiculous lie had somehow worked, and Garrett still couldn’t quite believe he had been dragged into helping tell it.