Page 69 of Sweet Poison

“No. Handsome prince.” she whispers at the same time she signs the words.

Handsome prince?

That’s something I’ve never been called before.

But, suddenly, I get it. For a moment, I see what she does. Willow is not just playing fairies— she actually created a whole new world in her mother’s garden, and she’s including me— she’s making me a part of her magical world. She dances around me with a flower crown on her head, twirling while throwing flowers in the air, and I find myself getting caught up in the magic of the moment.

Willow laughs and signals for me to join her and I’m helpless to resist.

“Fine, fine! I guess I’m a stupid prince now,” I say, crossing my arms and trying to look all serious, but inside, I’m kind of enjoying it.

Maybe not everything has to be black and white.

Maybe it can be her… green.

The garden no longer feels like just a garden. It’s alive now, filled with joy and magic. And being part of Willow’s world? Well… it turns out, it isn’t so bad after all.

We settle under her mother’s favorite willow tree, the branches cascading like a curtain of green around us, hiding us from the world outside. The shade is cool, and I can smell the fresh grass and flowers all around. Willow spreads out a white picnic blanket, revealing the treats she must’ve gathered earlier—finger sandwiches with the crusts cut off and chocolate cookies that look like they’ve been baked by fairy hands.

It’s the perfect feast for fairies and I don’t doubt her mother was the one who made it for her. Mrs. O’ Sullivan makes every second of the day feel like an adventure for her kid and not she does it for me.

Willow picks a few more flowers from the ground, her fingers moving quickly, weaving them together like she’s making magic. I watch her in silence, my thoughts swirling. I want to say something, but it’s hard to find the words. It’s always been hard for me and eventually I gave up.

Then, without looking up from her flower crown, she pauses, her hands stilling for just a second. “What makes you happy?” she signs, glancing up at me with that hopeful, wide-eyed expression she always has when she wants to know something important— an expression that makes my stomach feel funny.

I frown and pick out a flower from my hair and pick it apart, watching it bend under my fingers. “Nothing.” Nothing makes me feel… anything. I’m just existing. But then I think of Willow’s smile— the way it lights up her whole face, like she’s made of sunshine— and suddenly, my chest feels funny. I feel something warm in my chest, something that wasn't there before.

I bite my lip, trying to push it away. But it doesn’t go.

Willow’s smile falters, and I see the worry in her eyes. My heart twinges a little—I didn’t mean to make her sad. “What about you?” I ask, trying to shift the focus away from me.

She thinks for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. Her lips part like she’s about to say something, then she leans forward and carefully places a crown of flowers on my head. Her fingers brush against my hair, soft and gentle. “You!” she whispers, her cute face lighting up with joy as she points at me.

I blink in surprise, my cheeks turning pink. I stare at her for a second, my frown still there. “Me?”

Willow nods enthusiastically, her grin wide, it's almost infectious. “Yes! Happy!” she signs this time, her eyes never leaving mine.

And in that moment, something shifts inside me.

Suddenly, a gust of wind sweeps through the garden, rustling the leaves above us. A flurry of petals scatters through the air, dancing around us and making everything look like it’s glowing.

I watch the flowers twirl and float around us like magic, painting the air with color. Willow laughs silently, her whole body shaking with joy as she reaches out to catch a few petals in her hands, holding them up like small treasures.

I can’t help but smile back, because in that moment, I realized something I never let myself admit before.

Willow’s smile and her happiness? They make me happy, too.Even when nothing else in the world does.

We both sit in awe, surrounded by magic and color, just… being. And then, from the house, we hear Willow’s mom call out, her voice warm and kind, like the sun on a freezing day.

“Willow! Madden! Time for waffles and milkshakes!”

I turn to see her standing in the doorway, a smile lighting up her face just like her daughter’s. It’s the kind of smile that makes everything feel right and safe. Willow’s eyes widen in pure excitement, and she bounces on her feet, her flower crown slightly askew on her head.

“Waffles!” she signs, clapping her hands together.

Willow loves waffles as much as her parents do. So much they even have them for dinner.

Mrs. O’ Sullivan waves us over, and the delicious scent of waffles wafts through the air, making my stomach rumble loud enough that I almost feel embarrassed. No one knows but I’mhungry all the time even when they feed me, I feel hungry. Maybe inside of me I eat so much for when the time comes that I don't have anything to eat at all.

---