The food looks good though, well prepared and emory finds herself comparing it to the food back at the coven. They had a garden outback, grown by everyone. They each took turns taking care of it, and it gave them their fruits and vegetables. It was hard work but satisfying to see their fruits of labor on their table.
As they reach the end of the food line, Emory's eyes spot a crack of desert. There's one slice of freshly baked apple pie, and a single square of a rice krispie treat.
Her eyes tear up as she reaches for the pie, the one thing in the world she finds herself desperate for. It's her favorite, a rare vice that Mrs. Marlene only cooked once every six months. This has to be a sign from her goddess. A sign of something good during this awful time of loss and confusion.
She's here with Emory, her goddess. Looking down at her and letting her know she hasn't abandoned her. It's what Emory believes at least, and it lifts her spirit, if only just a little.
However, before the small plate of apple pie can reach her food tray, a tan, slender hand snatches it from her.
Then the right side of Emory's face explodes with pain. Her head jerks to the left, throbbing with the sudden punch. Her tray of food clatters to the floor, creating a mess. Her back hits the edge of a table and she sprawls out on the bench seat. It takes her a moment to understand that someone just hit her.
Emory can hear Vai'an snickering a few feet away from her and she curses him inside her head for not giving her any warning of what was about to happen.
She looks up to see a woman with black hair walk away, Emory's slice of heaven in her hand. Did she just hit Emory for her pie?
She looks around with wide eyes at the few faces in the dining hall and finds them snickering at her. The guards continue to stand around, and Emory wonders how that hit couldn't have been trouble they needed to stop.
Right, this isn't the coven, she guesses a single punch isn't cause for concern. Clearly things are run differently here.
There's a sudden rage that unleashes inside her. A heavy weight that consumes her soul. Why does this keep happening? Why does she keep getting pushed around and knocked down again and again?
Emory pushes herself up from the table, her fists clenching at her side as she glares at the back of the woman's head. She doesn't even acknowledge her. She didn't say hi before she punched her. She didn't even ask if she could have the last slice. She attacked first and just took.
Emory is so tired of people just taking. The demon took her coven. Rome took her best friend, and then her. And now she wants to take Emory's pie?
She just wants one thing, just one, and Emory will have that damn pie.
Emory rushes up behind her, but the woman turns around too late. Emory is reaching over her shoulder as the woman turns to look at her, and Emory's fingers press into soft flaky crust. As soon as she has the pie in her hand, Emory shoves it into her mouth, apple filling oozes out as it drips down her chin.
It covers her lips and nose, the warm taste of sweet fruit and cinnamon melting on her tongue.
Emory groans, "Oh, that's so good."
It's not as good as Mrs. Marlene's apple pie, but it's good nonetheless. She can feel all her rage and frustration push to the back as she focuses only on enjoying her treat. She deserves this, Emory thinks. After everything, , she deserves a slice of pie.
She turns to walk back to Vai'an, licking off pie filling from her hand when she sees something from the side. Her head turns to look out the open double doors that lead out of the dining hall and see Rome walking past.
Every negative feeling that had been pushed away comes back at her with full force, and she hates that because that fucking pie was good and now it's ruined. The sight of Walkers head rolling away plays before her over and over, and Emory's nails dig into the heel of her palm.
Emory marches towards the door, determined to catch up with Rome and give him a piece of her mind and she doesn't know, fight him for killing the only person she truly cared about when a hand grabs her by the hair at the back of her head.
Emory's body lurches forward and she lands hard on her knees.
"That was my pie, you fucking bitch." A soft voice whispers into her ear, and Emory can feel her breath against her skin.
She looks up to see the girl who punched her and took her pie.
"Was it?" Emory glares at her, and then a slow smile appears, "Because last I checked, it's in my stomach, not yours." She pokes the woman's midsection.
The woman makes a noise in the back of her throat at Emory, and pulls her head back to smack her face against the floor.
"Wait, wait! I can get you more pie!" Emory shouts just before her forehead can hit the tile, her hands reaching up to pull at the hand in her hair.
The lady pauses and looks down at Emory, raising a black eyebrow.
"It'll just take a couple of hours for me to shit it out, and you can have it back." Emory sighs in defeat.
The woman groans in frustration and slams her forehead down.
There's a loud crack and pain explodes behind Emory's eyes. She can feel something wet, a whooshing sensation and then her head hits the floor again.