>The night is dark and the air is so very cold.
>You run through the streets towards the source of the smoke as the yelling of alarmed p0nies begins to rise above the town's rooftops.
>There’s a great sinking feeling in your gut as you make your way towards the billowing pillar and see the orange glow lighting it from beneath.
>Halfway there the sinking turns into a knot in your stomach.
>A group of pegasi fly overhead pushing rainclouds.
>The knot tightens as you approach and round the corner leading to your street.
>Your heart stops when the light of the flames meets your eyes.
>The whole block is ablaze.
>Time slows down to a crawl.
>Bright orange sparks fly into the air, and you faintly hear the yells of ponies as they run from their houses.
>A beam collapses with a resounding crash. You watch as it cracks and smolders under the intense heat.
>Without thinking, you start to walk towards the house at the center of the inferno; your house.
>The pegasi unload their rainclouds onto the fire, sending a huge plume of smoke, steam, and sparks into the air.
>You try to push through a group, and are held back.
>One of them yells over the noise around you.
>"What are you, nuts? Stay back!"
What the fuck happened here!?
>"I don't know! The place just went up and started spreading like crazy!" he yells.
Shit...
>You feel someone nudge your back.
>It's Rose.
>”What's happening? I heard screams,” she asks, staring at the blaze.
I don't know, Rose. I just got here. Pegasus squads seem like they're on it, but it doesn't look good.
>”Just got here? Isn't that your house?”
1/
 
>You glare at the mare, and a look of realization plays across her face.
>”Does Em know? Where is she?”
At home. She was asleep when I left.
>You shoot a glance at the crowd.
Look, why don't we have this conversation elsewhere? Em'll need to know about this.
>The two of you are halfway to the Mayor's house when you meet her on the road.
>She's wrapped in a bathrobe, hurrying towards you.
>”Anon? What's going on? You just left without saying anything! There's a nail stuck in my door!” she exclaims, stopping short when she sees your shaken face. “...Are you alright?” she asks.
>You look back at the column of smoke and sigh.
I'm fine, Em. More than I can say about my house...And the neighbors' houses...
>Rose knots her brow.
>”Hey, the Pegasus squads can still put it out. Don't give up ye-”
>You cut her off.
Even if they put it out now the place won't be livable. Not to mention all my things...
>”It'll be okay, hon. You aren't hurt, are you?”
I said I'm fine. Just a little shook up is all.
>”Well it's a good thing you two decided to shack up at Em's place, huh?” Rose puts in.
Yeah. Thank God you live closer to Ginger's cousin's place than I do, Em.
>”We should head in. I doubt there's anything we can do right now,” Em says.
>Rose nods in agreement. “Want me to stick around, Em?”
>”No, go back and get some sleep, Rose.  Anon and I can handle it.”
>Em turns to you. “...right?”
2/
 
>Em's mane flutters in the cold breeze.
Yeah. Go on.
>Rose looks at you both with some concern.
>”Okay. Take care, Em,” she says before turning and heading back towards her own house across town.
>Em starts towards her own house and motions for you to follow.
>”Shall we?”
>You cast a glance at the fire in the distance.
I don't know. I think I should go back. The Guard will be around soon to get statements. I should be there.
>She rolls her eyes and grips her robe against a gust of wind.
>”You don't need to be out at five in the morning watching your house burn down just so you can tell the Guard that you don't know anything. They'll find you tomorrow and ask you about it then.”
Yeah, but-
“No buts. Come inside. We'll put a kettle on.”
>Seeing the slightly pleading look on Em's face drives you to submit.
Alright fine, but let me take care of the stove. I don't want another fire starting today.
>She glowers for a second before letting out a quiet laugh. ”Making jokes already?
Would you rather I sulk?
>”Oh Celestia, no. Just don't put on a happy face just for my sake.”
>You follow her back into the house, stopping briefly to feel the nail still in the door.
>Em makes her way to the kitchen and flicks on the lights.
>”What kind of tea do you want?” Em asks.
Any's fine.
>She walks over and nuzzles your free arm as you halfheartedly put the kettle on.
>”Don't be so down. It's just things. What's important is that you're safe.”
I know, Em. I'll be fine.
>You stare out the window as the very first hints of daylight creep over the horizon.
3/
 
>Whooves and Ginger are at work at the plating area when you come to the restaurant.
>Ginger turns from her duties and catches you walking to your office.
>”Morning, Chef. I'm surprised you're in today. I heard about the fire,” she says with concern.
Yeah, the place isn't looking so good.
>”Well I'm glad you got out in one piece. Is Joy doing okay? She must've had quite a scare waking up to that in the middle of the night. I can't even imagine...”
>You knot your brow in confusion for a moment before you remember what Ginger is talking about.
Oh! Right, yeah...No, she's fine. Little shaken, but she's no worse for wear. Joy's a tough little mare.
>”Mmm, and Chef?”
Yes, Ginger?
>“If the two of you need a place to stay, I've got a couple of spare beds at my house.”
>There's a long pause in which you try to formulate a response.
>Ginger shifts her weight slightly, looking confused at your silence.
>”Well the offer's open if you decide to take me up on it, Chef. Just let me know beforehoof, alright?” she says before trotting back to her station to join Whooves. The stallion shoots a glance back at you before getting back to showing her the ropes.
>You walk to your office trying to figure out what to do and muttering to yourself.
Okay, so I have a place to stay, but what am I going to do about Em?
>The office door clicks behind you.
Dammit, I should've said she went home when I had the chance.
>You flop down into your chair and sit there despondently for a little while before you get an idea.
>Em is going to kill you.
4/
 
>You get to work on prep after a few minutes, and soon your mind is taken off the previous night's disaster.
>A few cooks stop short when they see you at work, but they remain silent and carry on.
>Eventually Whooves leaves Ginger to her own devices and approaches you.
>”Hey, you doing alright, Chef? You seem a little off, if you don't mind me saying,” he says.
I'm fine, Whooves.
>”You sure? I mean, your bucking house burned down. I know I'd be all sorts of out of it, at least for a little while.”
I appreciate the concern. Really, I do, but I'm telling you right now everything's alright.
>”Your mare okay? What was her name, Joy? ”
>You put the knife down on the counter with a clatter.
Yes, she's fine. We got out okay before any major damage was done, but she's still a little rattled. Thanks for asking. Now I've got a lot of work to do, and so do you and Ginger. I want her prepared to lead off on Sunday, understand?
>”Yes, Chef,” the Sous replies. He trots off back towards Ginger and sets about his lesson once more.
>Before you have a chance to get yourself refocused, one of the cooks yells for you from the alley door.
>”Chef? There's a couple Guards out here want to talk to you! They said it can't wait!”
>You rub your forehead and set the knife down once again, muttering to yourself.
Shit...
>Two armored unicorns stand in the doorway waiting for you.
>”Anonymous, I presume?” one says when you approach.
At your service. What can I do for you two officers?
>”If you have a minute, we'd like to ask about the fire at your residence last night.”
5/
 
Sure thing, officer. What would you like to know?
>The unicorn pulls out a notepad and looks at you intently.
>”We have reason to believe that the fire was set intentionally.”
What?
>”That's really all the information I can divulge at this time. Now we'd like to ask you a few questions about the events of last night.”
Hold on. Someone set my house on fire on purpose?
>”Sir, calm down. We're pursuing every avenue of investigation, I assure you. Now we have a few questions to ask, if you'd be so kind.”
Yeah, fine. Shoot.
>”Where were you last night around the hour of three A.M.?” the other unicorn asks.
...I was coming back from a Nightmare Night party. We left around quarter to three, I think, b-
>”Where was the party?”
Across town, off Bridle Street.
>”Alright, so you were not in the house when it caught?”
No.
>”And you didn't arrive on the scene until around four thirty?”
That's right. I saw the smoke and came as fast as I could.
>”Okay. You said 'We left' earlier. Was there somep0ny with you when you left?”
>You curse internally at your slip-up.
Yeah...my er, my marefriend.
>”No witnesses reported seeing you arrive with anyp0ny. Where was she?”
>You lie.
She came with me. There was just so much confusion that she must have gotten lost in the crowd. We left a little after we arrived. She uh, couldn't watch.
>”I understand. Is there an address we can reach you at?”
Sure. We're staying with a friend. Down on Trottham Road? It's the third house on the right just after the corner with Mane Street.
>”Alright, Anonymous. We'll be in touch.”
>The two Guardsponies leave without another word.
>Em really is going to kill you...
6/
 
>Ginger seemed pleased when you told her you'd take up her offer.
>When you slipped out of the restaurant to tell Em the plan she was racing through her work with new energy.
>Em is less enthusiastic.
>”You want me to do what?” she yells.
Pose as my marefriend while we stay at Ginger's place.
>”I AM your marefriend.”
Not to the rest of town. Everyone thinks I'm dating some mare named Rhubarb Joy.
>”Because you convinced me to go out with you to that party?”
...And now everyone, most importantly the Guard, thinks that you're her.
>”Because you slipped up and told them your marefriend was still in town.”
I think I already apologized for that.
>”So because you can't keep your stories straight, I have to stay at one of your employees' houses instead of my own?”
Also you're going to need a disguise.
>Em rubs her temples and bites her lip.
>”Buck, Anon... Fine.”
>She looks up at her mane with a pained expression.
>”And I just re-dyed it...”
>You ruffle the mare's head and laugh.
Never took you for the vain sort, love.
>”I'm allowed a measure of vanity, I think,” she says, a tinge of pink rising in her cheeks.
>”Besides,” she continues, putting her annoyed expression back on, “if I'm going along with this 'plan' of yours, I might as well indulge myself a little.”
I said I was sorry...
>”Forgive me for not feeling better about that.”
Oh come on, it's only for a day or two. You can say you have to catch the train home tomorrow even.
>”I said fine. I'm not happy about it, though,” she huffs.
I'll find a way to make it up to you. I promise.
>”I'm holding you to that.”
7/
 
>Later that day.
>Rose sits in the greenhouse of her shop listening to Em.
>”He wants you to do what?” she asks incredulously.
>”...Pose as his marefriend while we stay at his Sous' house,” Em replies, taking an anxious sip of tea.
>”You ARE his marefriend.”
>”That's that I said, but since everyp0ny else thinks he's dating this Rhubarb Joy character I made up for the party last night, I have to play her now.”
>Rose sits back and giggles to herself.
>”What's so funny?” Em asks with a scowl forming on her lips.
>The florist composes herself.
>”This is what you get for keeping secrets, Em. Honestly, the two of you are like a couple of fillies passing notes under your desks,” she says chidingly.
>”We--”
>”I know you're not going to bring up the election, Em, because you know that's a silly excuse to make for dragging him along with this.”
>She knots her brow when her friend offers no reply.
>”Why are you so set on hiding the fact that you have somep0ny special?” Rose continues.
>Em fiddles with her teacup.
>”He hides it too...”
>”Yeah, but Anon doesn't do it for himself. He does it for you, Em.”
>”I know that. It's just-”
>Em stares at her red-maned friend and sighs heavily.
>”If we come and say it now, what will ponies think?”
>”Emmie, I love you, but that's got to be the shakiest excuse I've ever heard out of you. You really think that the ponies in this town are that fickle? And even if they were, what do you care? You'd let them dictate what you do that much?” Rose retorts in frustration.
>”I know. It's stupid...But I can't shake it.”
>”Want my advice?”
>”Are you going to give it anyway?”
8/
 
>Rose grins. “You know me too well.”
>”Well just tell me already. I have to just come out with it and tell everyp0ny about me and Anon, right? That's what you're going to tell me?”
>The florist puts on a fake scowl.
>”Well, now that you've done it for me I don't really have to, do I?” she asks.
>Em groans.
>”Now that we've settled that little problem...” Rose says.
>”Wait, wh--” Em starts,
>“--How have the cooking lessons been going? Last I heard, you were going to try a curry or something?”
>Em sighs in defeat.
>”We tried it a couple of nights ago.”
>”How did it come out?”
>”...Well, once we took care of the fire and the smoke cleared out of my kitchen we had some very nice takeout.”
>Rose laughs out loud.
>”Better than last week, I suppose. There weren't any injuries this time around?”
>”It wasn't that bad of a burn! You could hardly see it...”
>Rose gives Em a playful grin.
>”Did he kiss it and make it better?”
>The Mayor's face reddens.
>Rose snorts and falls back in her chair.
>”Wow! I was just kidding about that part.”
>Em sets her tea down and looks at her friend.
>”So how have you been doing? Any new developments with that stallion you were telling me about?”
>”Oh, him? It's been...it's been going...”
>Em sits back with a smug grin.
>”I'm all ears.”
9/
 
>That night.
>You scan the dining room and take mental note of how many ponies are seated before calling out the next salvo of orders.
Table Nine: One risotto, one salad, two linguine!
>”Yes, Chef!” the kitchen replies in unison.
>It's looking like another busy night already, and dinner service has only been on for an hour.
>Ginger hurries up to you with a number of  plates to put up.
>”Here you go, Chef! Table Twenty has these four!” she says over the noise of the kitchen and dining room.
Alright; thank you, Ginger.
>You take the plates and put them up on the counter.
Table Twenty: Up! Table Six: Up!
>Waiters come to whisk the plates away to their tables.
>The hustle-bustle of the restaurant during peak hours helps keep your mind at ease.
>The more work you occupy yourself with, the less you have to think about what you're doing later tonight.
>Whooves runs a set of plates back through the kitchen. You hear him berating one of the cooks in the background.
Table Seventeen: Three salad, one soup!
>”Yes, Chef!”
>You see a patron coming in you recognize and give a wave.
>One of the ponies in his group sees you and whispers in another's ear.
>They stop, and the ponies talk amongst themselves for a moment.
>The pony whom you waved to looks back at you with an expression of concern before following his group out the door.
>”Another one, Chef?” Ginger says, coming up behind you and looking at the group as they leave.
>She gives you a fresh set of dishes.
Yeah, third tonight. Something's weird recently.
>”Did you get a lot of that in Fillydelphia?”
A little. More in Canterlot. Never got to me much.
>”Well they're missing out,” Ginger remarks.
10/
 
>Dinner service finally ends, and you begin to wipe down your station.
>Once finished, you head to your office and write up the shift notes for the evening.
>Ginger is waiting in the alley when you leave.
>”Ready to go, Chef?” she asks, wrapping her jacket around herself to brace against the chill wind.
We're off the clock, Ging. You can just call me Anon.
>”Alright, Anon. You want me to come pick up your marefriend with you? We can all go to a bar together before we go back to my place. Sound like fun?”
Yeah, why not?
>”Where's Joy staying, anyway? Wasn't she just visiting? Where's she been all day?” Ginger asks as you leave the alley and head into downtown.
>You scramble, thinking back to your meeting with Em.
 
>>”So what, I'll just put on a wig and some contact lenses and go from there?”
You'll probably have to use that voice you did last night, too.
>>”Celestia damn it, Anon...”
Look, I said I was sorry. Just-- I'll meet you in front of the inn after the restaurant closes, okay? I have to get back before they start missing me.
>>”Right, fine. I'll figure it out. Go on.”
 
>”Anon?” Ginger asks, looking confused.
Yeah, sorry. The inn. She's been at the inn.
>”Okay, well let's go. No need to keep the mare waiting, right?”
>You follow Ginger down Mane Street.
>”So...” she starts.
>You cut her off.
--How do you think you did your first night as Sous?
>The mare turns in surprise. She suddenly looks nervous.
>”I uh, thought it was good? Why? Did I do something wrong? Oh Celestia, I screwed something up, didn't I? I'm sorry,” she babbles. You hold back your laughter.
Wasn't saying that. You did good tonight
11/
 
>Ginger smiles.
>”You're just saying that.”
For a first service being my Sous? If you screwed up bad you'd have heard about it. You should know that by now.
>You look down the road and see a figure standing outside the inn. She's tapping her hoof impatiently.
Looks like Joy's ready...
>The gold-maned mare beside you giggles and runs ahead of you. She trots back to you with Em in tow. They're talking as they return.
>”Thank you so much for putting us up on such short notice, Ginger. I mean, I'm only in town for another day or two, but I was so worried about what my Anon was going to do after I left it was killing me!” Em says.
>”It's no problem at all. Least I could do to repay Anon for all he's done for me. I'd still be out trying to make it as a food writer if it weren't for him!” Ginger replies.
>”You were a food writer?”
>”I dabbled. It wasn't going very well and I wasn't making any money, so I decided to get a job on the side. Found out I was better at actually cooking than I was at talking about other ponies' cooking.”
>Ginger looks like she's suddenly struck with a thought.
>”Do you do any cooking, Joy? I just realized we skipped staff meal.”
I thought we would just get food at the pub?
>Both mares look at you with eyebrows raised before turning back to each other and ignoring you.
>”I- a little bit,” Em says, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I can do simple stuff...”
>Your Sous looks elated.
>”Okay, new plan: We'll all make something at my house! Together!” she cries.
Sound good to you, Joy?
>”Can we still go to the bar?” Em asks.
12/
 
>The three of you wobble to Ginger's house an hour or so later.
>As Ginger fumbles with her keys, Em starts to nuzzle your side with a flush to her cheeks.
>You lean down and whisper in her ear, which flutters at your breath.
Save it for later...Ruby.
>Em grumbles at the nickname. You ruffle the pink wig on her head and laugh.
>”Got it!” Ginger yelps as she pushes the door open. “Entrez s'il vous plait, mes amis! Faites comme chez vous!"
>Em perks up immediately.
>"Vous avez une belle maison, Ginger," she replies.
>Ginger beams through her semi-sober haze and giddily drags Em to the kitchen.
>You stare at the mares in shock.
You know Prancian?
>"Yeah, I picked it up back when I was trying out the whole food writing thing. I thought it would help my writing," Ginger says. "But you can't fix bad form with fancy words, I guess."
>Em nods. "Well, it turned out for the best, no? I mean now you're Anon's new Sous!"
>"True. So where did you learn Prancian, Joy?"
>"Oh, I learned a bit here and there. I'm a bit of a traveler, you see..."
>You take the chance to survey Ginger's kitchen while Em spins a story about her 'travels.'
>Eventually, having taken stock of your Sous' supplies, you interrupt.
So what are we making, ladies?
>Ginger whips around and races to the cupboard.
>"I know! I know!" she shouts, rummaging through the shelves. "Joy, you've had Anon's risotto, right?"
>"Of course!" Em responds enthusiastically.
You want to make risotto?
>"Not just risotto, Anon!" Ginger cries. She pulls out a container of breadcrumbs and a bottle of oil. There's a look of manic intensity on her face.
>"We're making fritters."
13/
 
>"Come again?" Em inquires.
>"I had the idea at the bar. Portable risotto! You fry it in a ball and it turns into hoof-food! It's genius!" Ginger raves.
>You look at Em playfully.
Well, Joy? You game?
>”Risotto fritters? I don't know... It sounds weird.” She turns to Ginger. “Do you know how to do it?”
>Ginger beams. “Nope! But we've got Anon to make it work, silly!” she yells, giddily shoving into you.
And I'm just drunk enough to try.
>You pick up the breadcrumbs and oil, and carry them to the counter.
>Ginger and Em watch you as you think.
>Suddenly, you turn.
Get me an onion, some garlic, butter, olive oil, thyme, stock, and mushrooms. Also a couple eggs and some flour.
>You pause.
...And get out some beer.
>”I think we've had enough for the night, don't you?” Em says.
Not to drink.
>”What, then?”
Beer and mushroom risotto fritters. If we're going to make Ginger's crazy idea happen, I might as well add something of my own, right?
>”That's the Chef I know. Let's get started!” Ginger shouts.
14/
 
>Ginger pulls out the butter and the vegetable stock from the fridge, while Em goes through the pantry and grabs the onion and herbs.
Where are your matches?
>”Second drawer from the left,” Ginger calls back.
>You light the stove and drop a pat of butter in, with a spoonful of olive oil.
>Before long, the butter begins to melt and meld with the oil.
Joy, dice up that onion for me? We'll put it in with the garlic in a second.
>”Got it!” Em replies.
>A dash of thyme and a few shakes of oregano later, and the oil begins to shimmer.
>”Onions! Anon I did the onions!” Em yells behind you, proudly bearing a cutting board heaped with little white chunks.
>You let your face split into a wide grin.
Atta girl, Joy! Throw them in! Throw them in!
>The onions sizzle when they hit the oil.
>You can see the joy in Em's eyes.
>”Hey, Chef? What kind of beer?” Ginger asks, head poking into the fridge.
Pull out an ale or something?
>”I've got Saint Pauli's Mare and I've got Trotweissen.”
Trottweissen. Definitely Trotweissen.
>Ginger tosses you the bottle.
>Em peers into the pan at the now translucent onions.
>”Rice time?”
Rice time. Do the honors.
>Em picks up the cup of rice and pours the grains into the pan.
>As they start to suck up the oil, Em starts to giggle uncontrollably.
>You decide to tease.
Pull yourself together, little cook. We're not done yet.
>Em punches you in the arm.
>”You two through flirting over there? Mushrooms are cut.”
Alright, get sauteing. Joy, get the beer open. You're pouring.
>”How much?”
Half.
>A great plume of steam billows from the pan when Em pours the beer.
>The whole kitchen is filled with the smell of barley and hops.
15/
 
Alright, add broth every five minutes until there's none left or the risotto is creamy, whichever comes first.
>Em blinks a few times.
>”M-me?” she asks.
Yeah, why not? Afraid you can't handle it?
>She looks at the floor, frowning.
...I'll do it with you.
 
>Forty five minutes later.
>”Okay! It's cooled!” Em yells, pulling a sheet pan of the risotto out of the fridge.
>She sets the pan on the counter with a clatter.
Looking good. Now we scoop it all into balls and dredge.
>The three of you spend the next five minutes forming the risotto into balls and rolling them in flour.
>After that comes the egg wash, and finally a roll in the breadcrumbs.
>When all is said and done, you have a baking sheet of risotto balls waiting to be fried.
>Ginger pours a generous amount of oil into a deep pan and sets the heat high.
>”You two take a load off. It's my time to shine,” she remarks. Em jumps into your lap as you take a seat at the kitchen table.
>The gold-maned Sous deftly flicks the risotto balls around in the oil, letting them fry to a golden brown. She lifts them out and onto a paper towel in groups of five.
>”This has taken far longer than midnight drinking food should ever take,” Ginger remarks.
It was your idea to do risotto. Don't get smart now.
>”I wasn't complaining.”
>She picks one of the golden nuggets up with a fork and examines it before holding it up to Em.
>”First taste, Joy?” she asks.
>Em smirks.
>”Using me as the guinea pig?”
>Ginger purses her lips.
>”Be a sport. Frying is my specialty, see?” She motions to her flank, showing off her cutie mark of three fritters.
16/
 
>Em takes a delicate bite of one ball and slowly chews.
>She mulls it over in her mind whether or not it's any good before raising her eyebrows and looking at the platter.
>”So? How is it?” Ginger asks.
>Em seems to search for words.
>”It's...earthy...a little bitter, but not in a bad way.”
>You take one of the morsels and pop it in your mouth.
>The earthy notes of the mushrooms blend with the malted flavor of the beer in a novel way that makes you cock your head to the side.
Huh. Didn't expect that. You did good, Ginger. Risotto fritters. Never would have thought of that one.
>The Sous beams and takes one of the golden nuggets.
>”I'm glad this little get-together happened! I mean aside from the fire, this has turned out great!” she says through a mouth full of risotto.
>After swallowing, a look of dawning comprehension plays across her face.
What's that look for?
>”I just realized.”
What?
>”If you're staying with me until they rebuild your house, then we can do this kind of thing all the time!”
>You shoot Em a nervous glance.
I couldn't impose like that. It'll be a month or two at least before the place is livable again. I'm sure I could stay with Rari--
>Em cuts you off.
>”--And I'd like to thank you again for doing all this, and for your boss, no less!”
>”Oh, it's nothing, really. Like I said,  Anon's done so much for me this past year. This is the least I could do,” Ginger replies.
>Em looks up at the clock.
>”Well, I'd better turn in. I've got to catch the train tomorrow,” she says.
>Ginger hops down from her chair as Em hops from your lap.
17/
 
I should probably go up too. Early day tomorrow. I need you in early as well, actually. Big lunch reservation coming in. You're in charge of it.
>Ginger tenses up.
>”Aww...but--”
Hey, I'm still your boss. Come in at nine. And don't give me that look, I'm going in at seven.
>”Alright, alright. Come on, I'll show you two your room,” she says, leading you both upstairs.
Tonight was good, though. I don't usually get to cook with you guys from the kitchen unless we're on a job.
>”I'm glad to hear it. This was fun.”
>Ginger stops and opens a door in the hall.
>”Okay, here you two are. If you need anything, I'm down the hall. You know where the fridge is. See you tomorrow, Anon. Oh, and Joy?”
>Em looks up from examining the accommodations.
>”If I don't catch you before you go, have a good trip! Hope you come back soon!”
>”Oh, I'll see you again. You can count on it, Ginger,” Em replies.
>The Sous trots off down the hall, leaving you and Em alone at last.
>Em takes off her wig and rubs her neck wearily. She shoots you a coy glare.
>”You owe me so much for this, Anonymous. It's not even funny.”
>Her expression snaps to one of surprise when you scoop her up into your arms.
I'll find a way to make it up to you.
>”You'd better,” she whispers sleepily.
End.