Alana was preparing dinner for herself, Immi, and Atlas. Rice was the only thing she was good at cooking, and they were limited on food items anyway, so she figured they would deal with it.
She was almost done when both of them burst through the door, panting and out of breath. Atlas was carrying Immi.
"What's going on with you?" she asked.
"Well, long story short, we just had an encounter with a bounty hunter," Atlas said, letting Immi down from his arms.
"From.."
"My father," Immi finished. "She was trying to get Atlas to turn me in because apparently, people are looking for me now."
"Because of what happened at the house," Atlas said.
"But you got away."
"Yeah, Immi broke through the window with fire and everything," Atlas said, looking at Immi. "You should really be careful with that."
"It was only a little! Plus I was mad," Immi protested.
"Wait, hold on a second," Alana stopped them. "Back up."
Atlas filled her in on what happened, detail by detail. Alana's eyes grew wider with each passing moment.
"That's weird," she said after they had finished. "Glad you were able to get out of there."
"Me too. And it just goes to show you can't trust anyone, Immi," Atlas said.
"I thought she was nice!"
"Anyway," Alana interrupted, breaking up the argument, "I think we're all just hangry. Here, I made rice."
YOU ARE READING
Exile
FantasyI wrote a "book" with some old friends, starting in 7th grade and completing it in 8th. It tells the tales of an exiled girl on a mission to overthrow a horrid tyrant, with accomplices, situationships, and an enemy who may not be what people think.
