Chapter Text
Honestly, it probably all started the day Branch disappeared.
As far as Poppy could remember, it’d been like any other day; she woke up, ate her breakfast cupcake, practiced flossing her teeth while doing the floss, joined up with the Snack Pack and sang an awesome medley… All in all, super normal, super great. You’d think that on a day where something crazy--like a ten year old trolling just up and vanishing-- would maybe have, like, a sign? Or an omen or something?
Well, okay, obviously there wouldn’t be--which was kind of the point, she guessed--so maybe Poppy was just wishing that… everyone else cared a little bit more?
Which was ridiculous. They all cared! In--In their own ways. Which was apparently, never talk about it ever except to make random jokes every once in a while about that one weird Gray kid, to, you know, reminisce. It always caught Poppy off-guard, but she laughed along, because it was fine. Obviously, they didn’t mean it; they were just… coping. Like Ivy did after Laughy Taffy kicked the bucket! Joking about how loud he snored and how he was obsessed with wearing his makeup everywhere and that one time he snorted glitter up his nose and was throwing the stuff up for days. Happiness was a choice, and if someone they loved was dead, then, well--they just chose to be happy!
Except Branch wasn’t dead. He disappeared. Which, yeah, could mean that he was eaten by a giant spider or something, but Poppy doubted that. When he’d started building his weird bunker-thingy, he’d gone into the woods every day to get supplies, and he’d been completely fine. Even his old journals, hidden behind curtains on a shelf, detailed super intensive battle plans and designs for traps that, honestly, made Poppy feel a little bad for the animals.
Not that she'd been reading his old journals or anything. Ha, no, that was creepy. Duh.
In a way, it was weird. Poppy hadn’t really known Branch. No one did; he was just the Gray trolling who hopped from pod to pod before just flat-out running away. (Why else wouldn’t he have come to live at their place? Poppy would’ve loved to have him there; she’d always wanted a sister, but a brother was just as good! Maybe Dad had just forgotten or something.) But, like, she’d talked to him. She’d invited him to their parties, even though the others in the Snack Pack never bothered. Because, sure, Branch was probably going to say no--just like last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, aaaaand the time before that--but what if he changed his mind? No one deserved to be sad, or--or scared, or angry, or… whatever the heck it meant to be Gray. Just because her friends and her dad and, like… everybody in the village acted like they didn’t like Branch and kept forgetting about him didn’t mean Poppy had to either. So she kept making cards, and he kept… not coming.
But it actually got kind of fun! Arts and crafts were always great, and she’d put these little glitter sprayers inside, even though she knew Branch hated glitter. Actually, because she knew he hated glitter. It was like a game! The “See-If-Branch-Falls-for-It- This-Time” game! Most of the time, he didn’t, which, she’d done it to him, like, five times in a row, so of course he got used to it. Sometimes, Branch ripped the card, or stomped on it, or just flat-out refused to open it. One time, he took it, set it next to a stump, and walked away. Then, a few seconds later, while Poppy looked at Cooper and Biggie and Creek (ugh, Creek) and the others in confusion, Branch reappeared holding a giant boulder--seriously, it was, like, three times his size--set it on the stomp, and rolled it off onto the card in an explosion of glitter and confetti.
Maybe Poppy should’ve been more offended by that. Honestly, though, that tiny little smirk on his face and the pride in his eyes had kind of made it worth it.
And she knew he liked it, too. Even if he didn’t ever actually show up, he kept the cards. Poppy knew that; she’d found them hidden behind curtains on a shelf in the first level of the bunker--really, the only level at that point. Every single one! Even the ones he ripped into shreds and stomped away from, he’d somehow reassembled with tape and glitterless glue. Maybe he ran back as soon as Poppy left or something?
Which… was sweet. Like, really sweet.
Maybe that was why she’d gone through his journals, a few days after DJ Suki realized that Branch hadn’t done his usual “grab-some-food-from-the-village-and- disappear-right-before-Hug-Time” run. When some small part of Poppy started to stop hoping that maybe he’d gotten stuck in some tree sap or just got really distracted by, like, measuring rocks or something, and would be back soon.
Honestly, even though Poppy knew that it was probably fine, and he’d show up in a couple of hours, acting like nothing was wrong, she… just wanted to get to know him better. Maybe he had really secret happy thoughts that he just kept to himself and didn’t share with everyone because that made him even happier. Or something. Not that it made any sense to Poppy, but this was the same kid who had fun putting together thousand-piece puzzles and sharpening sticks. Anything was possible!
But every single journal she found was just stock and blueprints and steps on how to live his life for the next twenty years. (Literally. He even had his meals scheduled and planned, all the way up until his thirtieth birthday, and even then, he’d only written down Flavorless coffee for his lunch, which… was just sad.)
Which… meant that somehow, this was important to him. It was weird, yeah, no denying that--and paranoid because, come on, like the Bergens would find them again! (Ugh, stupid Past Poppy…)--but if he was bothering to work on this place for the next twenty years of his life, then it meant something.
So… Poppy looked at the first step in the journal that hadn’t been crossed out. When she found it was something simple-- Dig out another twenty feet in the ammunition tunnel --she… just did that. And then, six hours later--yeah, nowhere near as easy as she’d thought--she came back to the journal, sweaty and covered in dirt, with glittery-purple blood on her hands from gripping the shovel for so long, which was a thing, apparently?! And she grabbed a charcoal pencil from the table that looked like it’d been carved by Branch himself, and she crossed out the step. And she did the next thing. And the next, and the next, and the next, until years later, when the Bergens actually did show up, and Poppy needed a place to keep her village safe, it had enough supplies and space to hold them for, like, a week, if they drank out of those weird jars full of water--at least, she hoped it was water--that she’d found in a shelf dug into the dirt wall.
Yeah. She did it because it was important to Branch. And definitely not so that whenever he’d came back, he’d notice and say she did a good job and maybe agree to let her take him to a party so he could finally be happy and be her friend or whatever. Definitely the first one.
But… it’d been a while. Like-- lemme think; he’s four years older than me, and I’m twenty, and he was ten, so --fourteen years a while. And now, with everything else perfect--Poppy was the queen, the Bergens were happy, Bridget was her new best friend-- for the first time in years, Poppy started to wonder if… Branch would ever come back at all.
Which, of course, was right when he decided to show up.
Poppy woke up to her bracelet going off.
She lurched up in her seat, hurriedly wiping away the drool on her mouth and feeling her eyes widen in panic. “Crap!” she exclaimed.
She leaped out of her chair, narrowly avoiding bumping into the table as she did. “Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap!”
As Poppy hopped onto the elevator--no time for a shower, as fun as the ten-story waterfall was--she cupped her hand over the bracelet, making the flower fold back up, concealing its pink glow. It killed her to ignore a Hug Time, but there wasn’t exactly anybody to hug down here. Besides, she could make up for it as soon as she got back outside.
Poppy tapped her foot, staring up at the distant ceiling as it sloooowly approached, like a snail bus that hadn’t had its cupcakes yet. Jeez, she couldn’t keep doing this! She was the queen now! Even if there weren’t any problems, people expected her to be up and about, excited and ready for the day! Not that she wasn’t--she couldn’t wait to see the Snack Pack again, she had a super-cool dream with taco versions of them last night, which reminded her, she was really hungry--but she couldn’t be sleeping in, either!
To be fair, though, she’d been up late last night, installing… Jeez, what was it… Oh, right! A new water heater! So she could take nice, warm showers in a regular shower, because while the waterfall was great, it was also pretty cold.
Well, maybe she should’ve been upgrading the elevator. Because it’d been twenty seconds and she wasn’t even halfway there!
Poppy closed her eyes, gritting her teeth and forcing herself to breathe. Happy is a choice, happy is a choice, happy is a choice…
By the time the elevator lifted into place, Poppy was completely and totally chill. Cheerful! She wasn’t ever even aggravated, anyway; she was just excited! Yeah! Who was she even kidding, anyway, she was always excited.
So Poppy calmly, happily--no, joyously bolted for the ladder, clambering up and out of the doormat, slamming the trapdoor shut behind her hard enough to hear the splintering of wood.
As Poppy skipped into town, she got a few weird looks from her subjects. Which was fine! She just waved them hi, asked if they had any parties that needed to be planned, and went on her merry way. And she even got a few jobs for some Scrapbooker Day parties! Which was crazy; she could’ve sworn that was tomorrow, but nope. Scrapbooker Day was before Tickle Day, and after the Fun-Timez-athon. Which was crazy, because she didn’t remember that was yesterday. Weird, right?
Poppy grabbed a trenta of their sugar cookie praline frappuccino (what the heck even was praline, anyway?) from the coffee stall on a root just on the edge of town and squinted across the village, scanning for her friends. It looked like everything was fine; people were walking from shop to shop on the roots, dancing on top of the mushrooms, and still hugging, even though Hug Time had been, like, five minutes ago. Honestly, though, Poppy couldn’t blame them. Hugs were great. Oddly enough, she couldn’t see her friends.
Poppy hummed, narrowing her eyes and taking a long slurp out of her straw. Hm. Suspicious. They were usually hitting the cookie shops by now; Poppy couldn’t think of any reason that they’d be anywhere else. Fuzzbert took his caramel fudge intake seriously. So why wouldn’t they be there?
Unless… they were planning a surprise party for her! Which was usually Poppy’s thing, but hey, she loved surprise parties as much as the next troll!
Let’s see; was it her birthday? She’d been pretty busy lately, she could’ve forgotten. No, Dad made a big deal about celebrating, he would’ve told her--but he wouldn’t have if he was helping her friends, too! Ooh, what if it was his birthday? No, then the others would let Poppy know, so she could help.
Oh! Maybe it was a “Sorry-You’ve-Been-Working-So-Hard-So-Here’s-a-Surprise- and-Thanks-For-Being-a-Great-Queen” Party? Ugh, that was so sweet of them! She really needed one of those right now.
Then a distant sound hit Poppy, making her pause in her slurping.
“Shake it off, shake it off!”
Wait… that was Biggie!
Poppy whipped to her left and up, towards the sound. Pods dangled from leaves, branches, flowers--you name it, they were blocking her vision. They were pretty far away, but not too far, obviously, or she wouldn’t be able to hear them. To be fair, though, they were really good at projecting.
What were they doing?
“But I keep cruising. Can’t stop, won't stop moving,” Satin and Chenille joined in.
Poppy aggressively slurped at her frappuccino before setting it on the counter of the coffee stall. She was going to need the energy. FOMO was absolutely not going to be tolerated!
She took a breath, and--as the rest of the Snack Pack launched into a pretty cool-sounding harmony--bolted in the direction of the noise.
“It's like I got this music in my mind, sayin' it's gonna be alright!”
She pretty much almost immediately tripped over a Fuzzling Troll that was setting up benches around the coffee stall, but caught her balance, spinning around and running backwards to call out a “Sorry, super-important queen business!” as the troll indignantly shouted at her in his adorable language of mutters, squeaks, and growls.
Suddenly fearful of stumbling over another of her demi-sized friends, Poppy twisted forwards. From then on, it was a lot easier to maneuver around her subjects as they headed home for… wait, was it lunchtime already? Dang it!
“Cause the players are gonna play, play, play, play, play--”
Poppy waved to a nearby caterbugging Glitter Troll and leaped off of her root. She didn’t fall far, though--she’d broken her leg doing that once; not fun, but at least she got to bedazzle her cast with glitter!--before shooting out her hair with a bit of focus. It flung itself around a vine slide, and Poppy used her momentum to swing herself up and over. From there, it was only a hop, swing, and a fly until the noise grew louder.
“And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate!”
Poppy finally let her hair shrink back to its natural length as she swooped around a fun meter bug, waving to its rider and grinning as butterflies lit up her stomach. She loved swinging! Sure, she was probably gonna throw up as soon as she hit the ground, but she could live with that.
She landed on a mossy branch hard enough to stumble, but caught her balance. While she bent in half and panted for breath, Poppy snapped her head up, searching.
There they were! Biggie, balancing Mr. Dinkles on his head and lifting Guy Diamond, Legsly and Satin and Chenille into a pyramid while they belted out their lyrics, “Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake--” ; DJ Suki sitting on top of her Wooferbug, putting down a sick beat; and Cooper giving Fuzzbert a ride and layering Suki’s music with some beatboxing. Best of all, she was behind them, which meant a perfect surprise!
Poppy grinned, straightening. As she ran forward as quietly as possible, she let herself… reach? Expand? She didn’t know the right way to describe the feeling in her chest as she mentally reached out, grabbing ahold of the music that connected… well, everyone!
The music thrummed like a guitar string beneath her touch and glowed a happy pink. Its vibrations melted into Poppy, creating a song in her mind, filling her body until all she wanted to do was dance, and it threatened to literally burst out of her.
And she let it. Because who didn’t want to sing?
“I shake it off, I shake it off!” she declared loudly, doing the wave with her arm and sidestepping, finishing off the chorus pretty smoothly, by her estimations.
The rest of the Snack Pack cut off, facing her. Biggie, being… well, Biggie, gasped, flinched, and tried to turn around all at once, resulting in the entire pyramid collapsing, trolls toppling to a pile on the ground with shouts of alarm.
Poppy flinched in sympathy, but was quickly distracted when Cooper stepped up to her with a large grin. “Hey, Poppy! Where you been?”
Poppy psh ed, waving a hand in dismissal. “Oh, nowhere! Just the, uh…” Poppy could feel the happy draining out of her as she gestured behind her, in the direction of where she’d come from. She kept her smile glued on, however. What would a sad face do anybody? “The bunker,” she finished lamely.
The pile of troll that had once been a pyramid let out a chorus of sighs. Cooper’s smile flickered as Fuzzbert let out intelligible squeaks, though the message came across through his angrily stomping foot. Suki just sighed, lying down on her Wooferbug’s back and rotating her headphones so the band covered her eyes.
“Poppy!” Legsly whined. She used her long legs to step out of the pile, sliding a groaning Guy Diamond off her head. Her legs decreased in height, though, as she walked up to Poppy with a pout. “You’re always in there! What happened to hanging out with us?”
In an instant, it was like Poppy was hitting the ground and breaking her leg all over again. The air in her chest seemed to vanish, leaving her gaping. Because what was she supposed to say to that? Sorry, I’ll stop and just give up on everything and everyone that’s ever been important to me?
Because she got it; pretty much every day, their queen and their friend was off building a bunker that they didn’t even need anymore, because there wasn’t anything to hide from! Of course it was weird! The Bergens were their friends, it wasn’t like they were just going to up and attack or anything.
And, well, it made sense for Poppy to stop. But… she just couldn’t? Was that weird? Because what if something happened again, and they needed more space, more food, more of Branch’s old jars of miscellaneous liquid? And Poppy couldn’t give them that?
She’d be a bad queen.
Which wasn’t going to happen! Poppy was ready for anything, she was building the bunker, she was being an awesome queen, and she had enough time leftover to spend it with her friends!
Well, usually.
Biggie sat up from the slowly unraveling pile, clutching Mr. Dinkles in his grip. His normally grinning mouth was tugged into a deep frown. “We hardly even see you anymore!” he complained as he got to his feet. He dusted himself off and adjusted Mr. Dinkles’ hat before scowling at Poppy. “You even missed Hug Time! And on Scrapbooker Day!”
Biggie huffed, stomping his foot. His expression was one of distress. “Who does that?”
The others--minus an uncomfortable Cooper and a sleeping Suki, who Poppy only now realized had been wanting to get out of the coming conversation--chorused in agreement, climbing out of the pile to get to their feet and frown at her.
Poppy could only stare at them in shock. Because she’d always been doing this! More lately than usual, sure, but always. Ever since Branch had vanished. Yeah, she’d been busier than usual, but… hadn’t she just missed a couple of holiday celebrations? And soirees? And birthday parties, weddings, tea parties… Jeez, how could she have missed all that in only two months?
They didn’t get it. They probably would, if Poppy explained it to them, but--but that was hard. Weird and complicated and--and just weird. And besides, what if they didn’t get it? What if they were still mad and just walked away anyway?
What if they stopped being her friends?
An awful feeling hit Poppy, sad and scared, curling up in her stomach like a sleepy Mr. Dinkles. Because… where had that come from? She’d never worried about that before! Of course they were her friends; they wouldn’t leave, or give up on her, or stop partying with her or stop trusting her or betray her--
Oh. Yeah.
Stupid Creek…
Well… she wouldn’t even give her friends the chance to do that. Not that they would, but--if she did a good enough job being queen, then it’d never come up, and they’d never even need to talk about it because after all, it was just a silly, little, totally not-true, completely irrational thing/concern/all-consuming, terrifying dread, anyway.
Yeah. Yeah! It was as simple as that!
Unfortunately, that… while that was a great long-term plan--the best of long-term plans--it didn’t exactly give her a plan going in the short-term. For, you know, apologizing/soothing her friends without talking about what she’d actually been doing. Which, you know… was going to be very not fun.
Thankfully, though, her good ol’ friend Fate came to her rescue!
(Were Poppy a more pessimistic troll, she might have realized that Fate had other plans for her. Ones that, unfortunately, may have more pitfalls than high points. One where, until the end was over and through, it would be difficult to find a silver lining.
Of course, this was all merely a hypothetical. For, naturally, Poppy was anything but pessimistic.)
“Queen Poppy!” a distant, familiarly-baritoned voice screamed.
For an instant, a wave of relief washed over Poppy. Ah, her buddy always came through! She was seriously going to have to consider extending an invitation into the Snack Pack, because Fate was crushing it lately!
Then she realized that if Smidge, of all people, was screaming for Poppy’s help, then something was seriously wrong.
Panic hit Poppy, making her whip away from her suddenly pale-faced companions and scramble to the edge of the vine. She squinted, scanning the expanse of the village below her; vines and branches and pods and mushrooms and stores, all the way down to the forest floor. Vibrant colors shifting through a head of hair extended all the way up to the canopy allowed Poppy to locate Smidge all the way at the edge of the village, but she was too far away for Poppy to tell anything else. Like, say, injuries, a terrified expression, or the presence of a monster that was about to tear the entire village apart when Poppy should’ve been paying attention.
What if Smidge was in danger?
Poppy didn’t waste another second; she dove off of the branch, ignoring the Snack Pack’s cries of alarm behind her. As she quickly swung through the trees, terror pounded through her chest. Smidge needed her, and she couldn’t get there fast enough, she couldn’t get there and something was going to happen, Poppy was a bad friend--
But as she landed beside Smidge in a crouch, she realized: everything seemed… ordinary? Other than her hair, detracting back into its roots and turning into its natural teal, Smidge was normal. Nothing in their immediate vicinity seemed broken or damaged. And while the few other trolls strolling along the forest floor were glancing over in their direction with bewilderment and confusion, they didn’t seem alarmed. Even the only one standing, like, five feet away didn’t seem angry or like he’d just insulted glitter, cupcakes, rainbows, and everything else holy to trolldom. (Poppy couldn’t really think of any other reason for Smidge to scream like that. Other than, you know, getting kidnapped by a Bergen and shoved into its fanny pack as a snack.)
Poppy let out a huff, straightening. She turned to Smidge with a frown, putting her hands on her hips. “Is this a prank or something? Because you know how I love pranks, but seriously--”
“Oh my god, no!” Smidge rebutted, face scrunching up in disgust. She crossed her arms and jerked her head to her right. “This Gray dude just showed up out of the forest. Since you’re queen and all--”
“It seemed like a good idea to call me,” Poppy finished, indignancy--and fear--draining out of her. She sighed, dropping her arms to her sides. God, something was wrong with her.
She forced on a smile, folding her hands behind her back and rocking on her heels. “Thanks, Smidge-alicious!”
Smidge’s animosity vanished, and she grinned up at Poppy. “No probs, Popcorn!” she chirped--as much as someone could chirp with that low a voice--and took a step back. Giving Poppy room, even as her gaze slid past her queen’s face, locking on something else, and hardened intimidatingly. Smidge narrowed her eyes, punching a fist into her palm.
Poppy allowed herself to take a moment. Safe. Smidge was safe. Everything was fine. And why wouldn’t it be? Everything was great, and it always was! The Bergens were their friends, now. And there was nothing else to be scared of.
Ha! Jeez, it was like something was wrong with her!
The clearing of a throat shook Poppy out of her thoughts. She turned to find the troll from before--shuffling in place a few feet away.
He froze, staring at her like she’d caught him by surprise. (Hadn’t he been the one to say something?) His eyes flickered away from her face towards an intimidating Smidge, before quickly returning to Poppy. He quickly straightened, dropping his shoulders to a regular height. His hands, though, squeezed into fists and lightly tapping against his legs, betrayed his discomfort.
He gave her a strained smile. “Hi.”
Poppy had seen him before--of course she had! not even noticing him would be awful, wouldn’t it?--but she’d really only glanced at him to see if he’d hurt Smidge, without really processing anything she saw. Now, though, she could fully absorb his appearance.
He seemed her height. Maaaaybe like a hair shorter. He wore a nice-ish pair of pants--covered in patches, like he’d just retrofitted it every time it got too small--and a vest made out of leaves, put on over a long-sleeve that honestly looked like he’d just found a pile of random fabrics and sewn it all together without a sense for fashion. Or, like, cohesion. There were some weird holes in his ears, and the tip of the left one was completely bitten off! Jeez!
And he was Gray. Hair black, skin drained of music and joy. His only color lived in his crystal-blue eyes, flicking away from Poppy to scan the rest of the village. Like her. Just waiting for danger to appear.
Poppy felt a weird feeling hit her. Those eyes… and the vest… and Gray… wasn’t that like…?
But then, Smidge’s words caught up with her. This Gray dude just showed up out of the forest.
Wait… so he was… new?
Poppy couldn’t keep a high-pitched squeal from escaping her as excitement flooded her system like twenty pounds of sugar injected directly into her bloodstream. Smidge didn’t even blink, used to Poppy’s joy after ten years of friendship, but the new troll took a step back, eyes widening in panic. But then they slitted, and he crouched low to the ground, ears flicking up and down.
Weird as that was, Poppy couldn’t really bring himself to care.
“Holy gumdrops! Holy gumdrops, holy gumdrops!” she exclaimed as soon as she was done stomping the ground in joy. She flung her arms wide, beaming widely. “You’re new!”
The troll stared at her. He slowly straightened, brow gradually furrowing as a weirdly small and hesitant smile tugged at his lips. (Huh; must’ve been a Gray thing.) “Uh…”
Poppy surged forward, excitement pounding in her chest, making the troll stagger back in surprise. She quickly circled him, examining every inch of him as she let her thoughts pour out like an explosion of glitter: “Oh, wow, I’ve never met a new troll before! Long-story short, there hasn’t been anyone new here for, like, ever, and everyone knows everyone ‘cause we’re all best friends, and where else would we go--except, obviously, there was somewhere else to go because you’re here, which is crazy! Where’re you from? Is it somewhere I’ve never heard of, or somewhere completely different--”
She paused to gasp for air. Talking took a heck of a lot of air, didn’t it?
She took a step back and flung out a hand, grinning widely. “I’m Queen Poppy! Welcome to Troll Village!”
The new troll stared at her, eyes wide and body stiff. He didn’t make a move to take her hand, which… not gonna lie, that hurt a little. Instead, his eyes traveled up, past Poppy’s face.
“Huh,” he finally said. “Queen. Guess that explains the crown.”
Poppy felt her excitement dim, confusion taking full reign. She gave a brief laugh because, honestly, she couldn’t really think of another way to respond. “Uh…” she stammered, fighting to keep her smile glued on. “Yep! It’s--It’s a crown, alright! Kind of a--a queen thing?”
She quietly glanced over at Smidge, who gave her an equally bewildered shrug.
Did he seriously not know what a crown was for?
The new troll slowly nodded. Something seemed to solidify in his eyes, and the smile that spread across his face as his body relaxed seemed a little more real this time. Honestly, though, it looked more like a smirk. “Yeah… it’s just bigger, I guess. You know. Than before.”
Poppy’s confusion surged forward, until a frown tugged on the corners of her lips. Which really didn’t fit the “awesome and welcoming queen” vibe that she was going for. “Uh… b--before?” she stammered, finally lowering her arm. She barely noticed when her hands began wringing each other, trying to shake out their bewilderment and discomfort.
The troll shrugged. His smile spread wider, but he fought to keep it tamped down. Oh, yeah, that was definitely a smirk.
For the first time, a sense of indignation poked at Poppy, making her frown even deeper. What was this guy’s problem?
“Yeah,” the troll said casually. He crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows at her. “I mean, it’s fine, it was a while ago. I think it was…”
He trailed off, wrinkling his face up in thought. Something about it felt… fake. Off. Mocking? But that didn’t make sense! Why would any troll mock someone?
Then his eyes widened. “Oh, yeah!”
He met Poppy’s gaze, face flattening, hardening into a disturbing, yet oh-so-familiar glare. “Fourteen years.”
Poppy’s entire world stopped. Breathing? Heart beating? Sounds and sights and touch? Never heard of it.
Fourteen years.
The vest. The glare. The eyes. How he refused to touch her. The--The Grayness!
Poppy was such a frickin’ dummy sometimes.
Gradually, her world restarted. Shock and joy clenched her heart with a tight fist. Her eyes bugged out of her head as she stared at the not-so-new after all troll, a grin spreading across her face.
“Branch?!”