♦ Chapter Six ♦

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    nefarious (adj.) || wicked, villainous, despicable. 

 

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She whisked the egg yolks in the bowl. 

The window above the kitchen sink had grown noticeably darken within the past few minutes and she wandered over from the stove to investigate. She felt a twinge of excitement when she saw the angry storm clouds rolling in, undoubtedly prepared to plunge them into a spiraling storm that would last the afternoon. 

She had actually slept last night. She insisted that her father watch at least the first three episodes of her newest favorite show and she vaguely remember him starting the seventh episode while she drifted asleep against his chest. Her father was the only one capable of keeping away the nightmare and snuggled into his embrace, she had the best rest of her life. 

She smiled and returned to the stove where she dumped the eggs into the sizzling pan. It was a bit after noon, she had just woken an hour ago, but she tried to keep quiet so that her father wouldn't wake. She knew he was exhausted, the hours were often long at the garage. 

An onslaught of fat, abundant snowflakes suddenly attacked the window from the outside as the sun's light was sucked into a gloomy darkness. The heavy snowstorm had begun. She didn't turn on the radio, as she usually did, but she was content to assume that the storm would pass eventually. The thought of losing electricity didn't even bother her, it was all part of the norm during the winter. 

The eggs sizzled in their pan while the bacon and sausage cackled from another, almost as if they were laughing at her, and she took a sip of her orange juice as she savored the sweet aroma that devoured the air. She had just started churning the eggs when she heard movement from the living room. 

She didn't have to turn around to know when her father entered the kitchen with her. He gave a loud yawn and slumped into a stool, "I thought it was my turn to cook when I'm home?" 

She peppered the eggs, "You needed to sleep. Besides, there is always dinner." 

"You got me," He chuckled after a moment, "So, how was your sleep? Comfortable, I would hope, since I was stuck in an awkward position all night." 

She finally turned to him, smirking, "Don't play victim, I asked you if you were comfortable and you said yes." 

He lazily grinned at her, "Touché, again. Breakfast smells great, who taught you to cook?" 

"A monkey's uncle." She laughed. 

Her father chuckled and there was a few moments of comfortable silence as they poked around the kitchen, gathering items to make an end result. 

"A heavy snowstorm, eh?" He commented from the kitchen sink, sipping at his coffee. 

She pulled the bacon from the pan, "Yeah, it started not too long ago." 

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