Page 44 of Hunting Little Hope
“Finally,” a voice whispered dramatically from inside. “I was beginning to think you’d chickened out.”
I stepped in and shut the door quietly behind me.
The girl with the pink braids—Misty, I reminded myself—was perched on one of the tables like a mischievous woodland sprite. She held up a large, clear plastic container.
It shimmered.So much glitter!
“Oh my goodness,” I breathed.
“Biodegradable,” she assured me proudly. “And technically washable. Eventually.”
The room was clearly already set up for tomorrow’s workshop. It was one of the workshops I’d beenveryexcited about attending before I was lured to the fluffy side.
“You ready?” Misty asked, hopping down.
I stepped further into the room, glancing around once more.
A slow, wicked thrill curled through my stomach.
“Hand it over,” I said.
Misty popped the lid and passed me a second container from the table behind her. Gold.
She kept the silver.
For a brief moment, we just stood there, staring at the perfectly pristine room.
“This is either going to be legendary…” Misty whispered.
“Or none of us will be able to sit for a week if they catch us,” I muttered.
She grinned.
And then, very gently, I dipped my fingers into the glitter and let it fall.
It caught the overhead light immediately, scattering across the dark wood of the nearest table like tiny fallen stars.
Misty gasped softly. “Oh, that’s pretty.”
“It is,” I crowed, feeling all floaty inside. “This isn’t a bad thing,” I told Misty as I looked up at her. “This is more like a blessing, don’t you think? We’re doing them all a favor by making it prettier.”
“Itisa blessing,” she repeated before following my suit and dipping her hands into her container.
We moved carefully through the room, sprinkling just enough to be noticeable. Along chair backs. Across the podium. A faint shimmer dusted across the carpet near the entrance.
My pulse slowed as we worked and carefully turned the room into a glitter wonderland.
When both our containers were empty, Misty stepped back and turned in a slow circle, admiring the damage. “It’s kind of magical,” she whispered, her voice awed.
I followed her gaze.
Under the dim lights, the entire room shimmered faintly, like it had been kissed by something mischievous and eternal.
“They’re going to lose their minds,” Misty said.
I smiled. “Worth it.”
She looked up at me and grinned before holding her closed fist out to me to bump.
