![]() ![]() Poor thing had been downstream of the cathedral, and sometimes they dump the holy water a little recklessly, and you get a plague of undead frogs and newts and whatnot. The worst thing I’ve ever seen in the kitchen was the occasional rat-don’t judge us, you can’t keep rats out in this city, and we’re as clean an establishment as you’ll ever find-and the zombie frog that crawled out of the canals. There was already enough of a mess to clean up without adding my secondhand breakfast to it. My stomach made an awful clenching, like somebody had grabbed it and squeezed hard, and I clapped both hands over my mouth to keep from getting sick. ![]() And she was lying at an awkward angle that nobody would choose to sleep in, even assuming they’d break into a bakery to take a nap in the first place. I haven’t seen a lot of dead bodies in my life-I’m only fourteen, and baking’s not exactly a high-mortality profession-but the red stuff oozing out from under her head definitely wasn’t raspberry filling. I could tell right away that she was dead. We keep the door open most of the time because the big ovens get swelteringly hot otherwise, but it was four in the morning and nothing was warmed up yet. I let out an undignified yelp and backed up a step, then another, until I ran into the bakery door. ![]() There was a dead girl in my aunt’s bakery. ![]()
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