147. Favorite Food

Zia and Theresa met each other’s eyes, and Theresa seemed to have noticed her weird expression upon seeing the pie.

“Do you not like key lime pie, honey?” she said. “I can bake something else.”

“N-no.” Zia faltered. “T-that’s actually my favorite.”

“Really?” said Theresa gleefully and sat back on her chair. “How coincidental. This is my daughter’s favorite pie too. In fact, she always made me bake them when she was little, that's why she was just as plump as you.” She tittered.

“That is coincidental.” Said Gray in a sarcastic tone.

Zia picked up her spoon and took a sliver of the pie and tasted it. And as the food was melting in her mouth, only then did she realize how much she yearned for this sense of finally coming home. It was like finding the end of a tunnel, the rainbow after the rain or an oasis in a desert. That very nostalgic pie was her very own definition of catharsis—her purgation; a relief from everything bizarre that had happened to her. It was the familiarity she ha