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Zoey is mad at Mira for eating the last slice of cake that she was going to save for her and Mystery's picnic date. Mira is confused but listens to Zoey's food lecture.
Zoey had discovered the crime at precisely 3:17 p.m., and from that moment on, the apartment was no longer at peace.
She stood frozen in front of the open refrigerator, one hand gripping the door, the other hovering over the empty cake box like she was trying to will the missing slice back into existence. The box, once heavy with promise and frosting, now contained nothing but crumbs and a faint smear of chocolate along the cardboard. Zoey stared at it in disbelief, eyes wide, jaw slack.
“…No,” she whispered.
Behind her, the apartment hummed with normalcy. Rumi was curled up on the couch with Jinu, half-watching something on TV, half-distracted by the way Jinu’s thumb traced lazy patterns against her wrist. Mira sat at the dining table with her laptop open, completely unaware that she was about to be accused of a deeply personal betrayal.
Zoey slowly turned around.
“Mira,” she said, voice dangerously calm.
Mira didn’t look up. “What.”
“Did you,” Zoey continued, taking one slow step away from the fridge, “eat the last slice of cake.”
Mira paused, fingers hovering over her keyboard. “Uh… probably?”
Zoey gasped.
“Probably?” she echoed, hand flying to her chest. “*Probably*?”
Rumi glanced over, instantly alert. “What’s happening?”
“The cake,” Zoey said, pointing dramatically toward the kitchen. “The special cake. The cake I was saving.”
Mira frowned. “You mean the chocolate one that’s been in there for two days?”
“Yes!” Zoey cried. “That one!”
Mira leaned back in her chair, confused. “I thought it was fair game. There was no note.”
Zoey’s eyes glistened. “That cake was for me and Mystery.”
The room went quiet.
“…For a picnic,” Zoey clarified, as if that explained everything.
Mira blinked. “You were saving one slice of cake for a picnic?”
“Yes,” Zoey said firmly. “It was symbolic.”
Rumi bit her lip, trying not to smile. Jinu raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
Mira rubbed her temple. “Zoey. It was one slice.”
“One slice,” Zoey agreed, “that represented planning, intention, and romance.”
Mira stared at her. “It represented dessert.”
Zoey inhaled deeply, squaring her shoulders. “Okay. I didn’t want to do this, but you’ve forced my hand.”
Rumi immediately sat up straighter. “Oh no.”
Zoey launched into her lecture.
“You can’t just eat other people’s food without asking,” she said, pacing the kitchen like a professor mid-rant. “Especially food with emotional significance. Cake is not just cake, Mira. Cake is a gesture. A moment. A shared experience. And now—” she gestured dramatically “—that experience is gone.”
Mira watched her with growing disbelief. “You didn’t tell anyone.”
“That’s because I assumed basic decency,” Zoey shot back.
Jinu leaned toward Rumi, whispering, “Should we intervene?”
Rumi shook her head slightly, eyes bright. “No. This is fascinating.”
Zoey continued, undeterred. “What was I supposed to do? Show up with half a cake box and say, ‘Sorry, my roommate couldn’t resist frosting’?”
Mira crossed her arms. “I didn’t know. I was hungry.”
Zoey stopped pacing and pointed at her. “And that’s the problem. You acted on impulse. Love requires forethought.”
Mira stared at her for a long moment. “…You’re lecturing me about love because I ate cake.”
“Yes.”
Rumi snorted.
Zoey whirled around. “This isn’t funny!”
Rumi tried to compose herself. “I’m sorry. Please continue.”
Zoey finished with a dramatic sigh. “All I’m saying is that food boundaries matter.”
The room fell silent.
Mira exhaled slowly. “Are you done?”
Zoey nodded. “Yes.”
Mira paused. “…Okay.”
She turned back to her laptop like the conversation had drained the last of her energy. Zoey stood there for a moment, still bristling, then deflated slightly.
That was when Rumi quietly stood up.
She walked to the refrigerator, opened it, and reached past the empty cake box Zoey had discovered earlier. From behind it, she pulled out a second, smaller box that was completely untouched.
Zoey’s head snapped up. “Wait.”
Rumi smiled innocently. “Oh. This one?”
Jinu immediately grinned. “You hid it?”
Rumi shrugged. “I had a feeling something like this might happen.”
Zoey’s expression flickered between confusion and hope. “Is that…?”
“Yes,” Rumi said. “Cake.”
Zoey’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Oh thank goodness.”
Before Zoey could reach it, Rumi turned smoothly back toward the couch. “Jinu?”
He was already standing, utterly complicit.
They sat down together, opened the box, and without a word, Rumi picked up a fork and took a bite. She turned, offering the next one to Jinu, who leaned in happily.
Zoey’s mouth fell open.
“Hey!” she protested. “That’s—!”
Rumi fed Jinu the bite, smiling as he hummed approvingly. “Mm. Still good.”
Jinu scooped another bite and offered it back to her. “Even better when shared.”
Zoey stared, scandalized. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
“Maybe,” Rumi said sweetly, accepting the fork. “But you said cake is about shared experiences.”
Mira glanced over, deadpan. “I hate all of you.”
Zoey watched them feed each other for another second, then groaned, covering her face. “Okay. Okay. I overreacted.”
Rumi paused. “You did?”
“Yes,” Zoey admitted, peeking through her fingers. “I was just… excited. And dramatic.”
Mira sighed. “Apology accepted.”
Zoey turned to her. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
Mira nodded. “I’m sorry I ate your emotionally significant dessert.”
Zoey smiled weakly. “Thank you.”
Rumi set the cake box aside. “Want a slice?”
Zoey brightened instantly. “Yes.”
Jinu handed her a fork. “Truce?”
Zoey nodded. “Truce.”
Mira stood up. “I’m going to pretend this never happened.”
As Zoey happily took a bite, Rumi leaned into Jinu’s side, content. The apartment settled back into its usual chaos—sweet, ridiculous, and full of people who cared, even when cake was on the line.