We rode our bikes out of town, until the roads became country lanes. Ben wouldn’t tell me where we were going, except to assure me it “wasn’t too far” and, alarmingly, “he wasn’t going to murder me in a remote location and bury my body in an old drain”, which sounded way too detailed and thought-out for my liking.
In any case, I was merrily peddling along after him anyway because I honestly think, when it comes to cute boys, any common sense I might possibly possess just goes right out of the window.
This time I flipped through the book and stopped at a random page. And that was page 97.
Cinders had turned two mice into horses, but only one had turned back into a mouse. The other stood in front of her, still very much a horse, but with shiny whiskers and a long pink tail.
“Oh,” Cinders said.
“Squeak,” replied the horse-mouse.