As she examined the items while putting them in the fridge, she noticed something strange. Well—kind of strange anyway. Peculiar was probably more apt.
It's just that…every single item she was putting in the fridge did not have a partially eaten counterpart of the same type and brand.
Everything was unique.
Now that she'd noticed it, she couldn't unnotice it. There was a two-thirds-eaten pack of Ballpark Franks in the meat drawer, but Ivy was just unloading turkey sausages and bratwurst.
There was a half-empty container of spear pickles, but Ivy found herself placing a bottle of relish beside it. It was strange. Had these people no product loyalty?
"What's with that look on your face, Aunt Ivy?" the little dhampir asked as two tiny bats came and helped her out of her pink jacket like a goddamned gothic horror Disney princess.
Ivy shrugged that off and shook her head.
