Fairest of All (Whatever After #1) Read Free Page B

them to wear a hat, and bring them chicken soup.
    “What should we do?” I ask Jonah.
    “Follow her!”
    “I don’t think we should,” I say. “She’s mean. I don’t think she really wants us to, either.”
    “Do you have a better idea?” he asks.
    I chew on my bottom lip.
    Jonah takes that to mean Okay, then! Follow the mean lady it is! and off he goes. I hesitate, then hurry to catch up.
    “Quietly,” I whisper, grabbing his arm to slow him down and stop him from stomping on every branch and twig.
    Mean Lady goes around a tree. We go around the same tree, then hide. She goes straight; we go straight. She goes right; we go right. We are sneaky and follow her wherever she goes. Then, even more sneakily, we hide. And follow and hide and follow and hide.
    “I hope she’s not lost, too,” Jonah whispers as he ducks behind a tree.
    Ten minutes later, she reaches a path. Yay! Only, I still don’t know where we are. Why does Smithville have forests with paths in the middle of nowhere? This place is so weird. First soda instead of pop, and now weird forests.
    We follow the old lady for another five minutes, until we arrive at a house. It’s a small house. It’s painted white, with flowers planted in the front garden, and it’s cute and tidy and welcoming. My chest feels lighter, because Mean Lady does know where she’s going. She’s going here . And it’s better to follow a mean lady who knows where she’s going than no one at all, right?
    I pull Jonah down behind a tree as Mean Lady walks up the charming stone footpath.
    She knocks on the door. Once. Twice.
    No one answers.
    She knocks again.
    And finally, the curtain behind one of the windows twitches.

s omeone’s home!” Jonah whispers. “Why aren’t they answering?”
    “If a meanie like that was knocking on your door, would you?” I ask him. He’d better not.
    “I know you’re there, you silly thing,” the lady says in a teasing way. She’s acting a lot friendlier to the silly thing in the house than she acted toward us.
    The curtain moves and the window opens. “It’s just … well, you see … I’m not allowed to answer the door,” the person inside replies.
    Someone is home! It’s definitely a girl. She doesn’t sound like a kid, but she doesn’t sound like a grown-up, either. A teenager, maybe?
    The old lady pulls a shiny red apple out of her basket. It glistens in the sun.
    “Hungry,” Jonah whispers. He pretends to be a zombie and makes his eyes glaze over. “Hhhhuungry!”
    I pinch him. “Shhh!”
    “I have apples to sell,” the lady singsongs.
    “No, thank you,” the girl says from behind the window curtain. “I’m not supposed to buy anything.”
    “I’ll give you one as a gift,” the lady offers, then clears her throat. “I’ll sell the rest later.”
    “No, really, that’s okay,” the girl says. “But thank you.”
    If I lean forward, I can see a corner of her face. Her hair is super dark, and her skin is super pale, except not in a zombie way. More like in a china-doll way. And her lips are really red. Really, really red. Like, bloodred, but again, not in a bad bloodred way. She’s beautiful, actually. Also, she looks familiar, like I’ve seen her before. Has she babysat for us, maybe?
    “But it’s so yummy!” the lady coaxes, extending the apple. “So juicy. So fresh. What’s wrong? Are you concerned it might be —”
    Jonah scrambles out into the open too quickly for me to catch him. “I’ll take it! I’ll take the yummy, juicy apple!”
    Oh, brother.
    “Jonah!” I whisper-yell. “Get! Back! Here!”
    He skids to a stop at the front door. “Hi,” he says, smiling at the old lady. He holds out his open hand. “Can I have one, please?”
    The old lady snaps, “It’s not for you. Bye-bye, now.”
    “But I said ‘please,’ ” he whines. “And I’m starving.”
    I groan, then emerge from our hiding spot. “You heard the lady. It’s bye-bye time.” I grip his shoulder and lower my