Quality | Naughty Alysha Extra

Step three: The Acquisition. The drawer handle was cold brass. She pulled. It squeaked. Kevin didn't flinch. There it was: the red foil-wrapped orb of a dark chocolate cherry. The holy grail of after-dinner contraband.

Alysha tilted her head, all innocence and venom. "Emergency," she whispered, chewing loudly. "I was sad." naughty alysha

"Did you just—" Kevin started.

Naughty Alysha knew the exact weight of a cookie on her palm. She knew the precise decibel of a floorboard’s groan. And she knew, with the cold certainty of a seven-year-old mastermind, that the “emergency only” chocolate stash in Mom’s top drawer was not, in fact, for emergencies. Step three: The Acquisition

Kevin stared. Alysha licked her fingers, one by one, then padded back to the living room, leaving a single, perfect crumb on the carpet as her signature. It squeaked