“Snow dear, I heard you’ve been very tired lately taking care of the children,” said her stepmother, Grimhilde.

This was certainly true. Large, dark bags hung under Snow’s eyes and her skin was as pale as snow. She looked like a ghost. Taking care of her seven dwarf-like children was really too much for her to handle alone. Luckily, at this time of night, they were already peacefully asleep in their room.

“Yes, mother.”

Her stepmother smiled brightly as if waiting for that answer. “I found you a perfect babysitter on this wonderful recruitment app called Mirror!” 

Snow gave her stepmother a look. Her stepmother was smiling, but there was something off about that smile...

“It’s not another dating app, is it?”

Her stepmother laughed a little too loudly. “Of course not! Here, let me show you.” She sat down next to Snow and showed her the Mirror profile of a man named—

“Hunter Dashing?!” Snow burst out into laughter, not even bothering to hide her cackles as she clutched her stomach. “What kind of name is that?”

“Hush child, I thought it was rather charming.”

Snow didn’t seem to hear her stepmother’s words as she doubled over, slapping her knee repeatedly.

Her stepmother turned back to the phone screen, clearly not as amused as Snow was, and pointed at a photo of the man. “What do you think?”

Snow took a deep breath in as she fanned herself. Her face was pink as she tried to calm down from laughter. She scrutinized the image. Brown hair. Green eyes. Tolerable. He looked okay, she supposed. She’d have to see about his capabilities. She started, “Well—”

“Wonderful!” Grimhilde interjected. “I already set up a date— I mean, an appointment with him. All you have to do is meet him.”

“Mother...” She knew her stepmother only wanted to help her, but wasn’t this going a little too far?!

“No need to thank me, dear. I set up the appointment for this Saturday~”

Snow narrowed her eyes. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Oh, not long,” she replied in a very unconvincing manner. 

That night, Snow lay in bed, pondering her options. To go or not to go? 

She normally didn’t like accepting help from others, preferring to do things on her own, but she was in desperate need of a babysitter. She didn’t know how she’d managed to take care of the children for so long. Maybe it was time to take a break.

Snow sighed and looked out the window, the moonlight illuminating the darkness, and she fell into a peaceful slumber.

❄❄❄

It was Saturday. 

Snow eyed the man seated across from her critically. 

Based on her observations, he was slightly awkward and very clumsy. (He knocked over his cup of hot chocolate three times within their first few minutes of introduction, but always managed to stop it before it really tipped over.) Maybe he was just nervous? 

Snow grasped her own cup of hot chocolate between her ice-cold hands to warm them. Sitting up straight in a wooden chair of a warm, cozy cafe, she cleared her throat and spoke formally. Her voice was stern and steady as she said, “Tell me about your experience with babysitting, Mr. Dashing.”

Hunter Dashing replied, “Uhm, okay... I used to do part-time babysitting, but after I got laid off from my job as a daycare worker last week, I’ve been doing it full-time. I really like children and can keep them entertained. I always make sure the children I’m babysitting are safe and healthy?”

His voice seemed to rise an octave, making his statement sound like a question. Snow lifted a brow. “How many children can you take care of at once?”

“Seven?” he replied unsurely with an arbitrary number, not sure where this conversation was going. 

“Oh, wonderful! I have seven children. Their names are Doc, Happy, Sneezy, Sleepy, Bashful, Grumpy, and Dopey.”

“Nice names,” he said. He wasn’t discouraged by this number, but awed. 

Snow was pleasantly surprised that he hadn’t reacted strongly about the fact she had seven children. Then, becoming more serious, she steepled her fingers above her cup and leaned forward.

“So, why do you think you’re qualified for this position?”

Hunter replied, “I’m just interested in building a relationship and finding a companion.” Snow raised an eyebrow at his response, but brushed it off.

After asking a few more questions, Snow was satisfied. Though he did answer a few questions strangely, she had a good overall impression of him. She just needed someone who seemed reliable enough to take care of the children for her. 

Getting up from her seat, she reached out a hand for a handshake. “Congratulations, you got the job.” 

Hunter startled as he hurriedly got up from his seat, almost knocking over his chair as he reached out to accept her handshake. “Thank you... Ms. White.” He wanted to call her by her first name, but with the awkwardly formal tone of the conversation, he decided otherwise. 

“Meet me at my house tomorrow at noon. I’ll send you the address in a bit. See you tomorrow!” Then, Snow waved and walked out of the cafe. The door opened, then closed.

Even though he wasn't cold in the least, after being grilled question after question to the point where his hands were slick with sweat, he stood frozen in place in a half-standing, half-sitting position. 

There was only one thought going through his mind: 

“Did she just invite me to her house after our first date?!”

❄❄❄

On Sunday at noon, there was a knock at the door. 

Snow and the seven children, Doc, Happy, Sneezy, Sleepy, Bashful, Grumpy, and Dopey, were crowded in the small living room. When they heard the knock, Dopey was the first to react, sprinting for the door. The others only watched as he slipped over his own socks and face planted.

“Oh, Dopey,” said Snow in a hopeless voice as she lifted the poor child up into her arms, inspecting for injuries. “What am I going to do with you?”

Happy answered the door with a smile. “Hello!” He said to the man at the door. “You’re our new babysitter, right?”

Hunter took this as a children’s joke and played along. “Of course! Where are the other children?” 

The door opened wider, revealing the insides of the cottage. It was small and warm compared to the cold bite of winter outside. 

“Come in,” said Snow who had walked up to the door with six other children crowded around her legs. “Let me introduce you.”

She gestured to each of them as she spoke:

“This is Doc.” Doc smiled gently.

“Happy.” Happy grinned from ear-to-ear in response to his name.

“Sneezy.” Sneezy sneezed loudly, his whole body jumping up at least a foot. Right on cue.

“Sleepy.” His eyelids were slowly drooping, and he rubbed them frantically with his sleeve.

“Bashful.” He poked his head out curiously from behind Snow but quickly hid again when Hunter looked in his direction.

“Grumpy.” He was a bit separated from the rest of the children, his head held high as he stared down the newcomer. 

“And Dopey.” Dopey gave a silly smile. Hunter smiled back.

“Now children, meet your new babysitter. You can call him Mister Dashing.”

“Hi, Mr. Dashing,” they chorused. 

Meanwhile, Mr. Dashing was very, very confused. He had driven for 45 minutes to this small house in the middle of the woods to see Snow, not babysit seven children!

He wanted to explain that there was a misunderstanding, but looking at the seven dwarf-like kids, his heart softened. Though he was disappointed that Snow didn’t see him as a companion, but a babysitter, he glanced at her and thought: it must be hard for her to take care of so many children. 

Why not help out? He’d get to see Snow more, and also the children.

He smiled fondly back at them.

❄❄❄

Early Monday morning, Snow awoke from a restless night’s sleep. Taking off her blankets, she stretched, put on her shoes, and did her early morning routine. After she was done, she prepared to make lunch for her children, taking out their small lunch boxes. 

“Brown for Doc, orange for Happy, yellow for Sneezy, blue for Sleepy, pink for Bashful, red for Grumpy, and purple for Dopey,” she recited as she took them out of the cabinet. 

There was a knock at the door.

Snow yawned and wondered with a hint of annoyance, “Who would come here so early in the morning?”

She walked to the window to see who it was, but only saw falling snow. There was a figure in front of the door. Her early-morning muddled mind swum to figure out who it was...

“Oh!” Snow sprinted to the door and opened it. She was met with the sight of a freezing Mr. Dashing. His face was pale with tints of pink on his cheeks.

“Hi,” he said a bit breathlessly, visibly shivering.

“Come in,” Snow said as she walked back to the kitchen, Hunter trailing behind her. “The children are still sleeping.”

He noticed the line of seven small bags on the counter, and he realized what they were for. “You don’t need to do that anymore. I can make lunch for them.”

“I realized that after you came,” she said with a weak laugh as she put them away. “What will you make for them?”

“What do they eat?” he asked Snow.

Snow nodded as if in approval. “They all have very different tastes. Doc likes to eat healthy, so vegetables for him. Do make him eat some meat, though. Eating some is also good for health. Happy likes everything except sour and bitter things—” She rambled on for a long time until she heard a scritch scritch scritch sound.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking notes.” He was scribbling furiously into a small notepad. Snow found this image quite adorable. The corner of her lips lifted a little, but she quickly hid it behind her hand.

“Oh. Anyway, where was I? Right...” Snow continued to ramble on in great detail about their eating and sleeping habits, personalities, hygiene, do’s and don’t’s, and more. Hunter felt like he could write an autobiography of all of them after her lecture.

“Ah, I have to go to work soon.” Snow scrambled to grab her purse, while Hunter grabbed her coat hanging by the door for her. 

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. 

“You work in the city?” Hunter asked.

She nodded. “Yes, I work at Minosoft as a videogame designer.”

Curious, he asked, “You make games? Have I heard of any?” 

She paused in her movements, her arm stopping halfway into her coat’s sleeve. Then, in a voice that Hunter could only describe as discouraged, she said, “You wouldn’t have heard of them. None of them became very popular.” She issued a small laugh. 

“Oh.” He wanted to know more about her, but didn’t want to pry. 

Snow changed the subject, not wanting to say more, because she was afraid she might mention how her supervisor was threatening to fire her if her next game idea did not get approved. 

As she put on her boots, she said in a voice she hoped sounded more positive, “Please take care of the kids. Make breakfast, wake them at 9, play some games with them or something. Oh, I already told you all this—I’m sure it’s in your notebook somewhere.” She struggled to put on her other boot, stamping it harshly against the ground. 

Snow was imagining she was stomping on her supervisor, while Hunter stared in shock at the violent way she was trying to put on that boot. “Anyway, tell them I’ll try to be back earlier and that I love them.”

And then, she was out the door. Hunter heard the engine purr and heavy metal music blast as she drove away down the winding road leading from the silent woods into the busy city.

At nine, Hunter was just about to wake the kids when he saw Doc leave the children’s shared bedroom to brush his teeth. What a responsible kid, he thought. I won’t have to worry about this one.

He opened the door into their room. Seven beds were lined up against the wall, each with a name inscribed into the wooden headboard. 

He walked up to the child closest to the door, Happy.

Ten minutes later, he’d succeeded in getting Happy, Bashful, and Dopey up, but the rest just listened (or didn’t) to his wake-up call and continued to sleep soundly. Well, no. Grumpy was clearly awake but refused to get out of bed. Instead, Grumpy gave him a stare—no, a glare—and continued to lean against the headboard with his arms crossed. 

Luckily, Hunter was patient.  

So patient that he started a pillow fight to get the children out of their beds.

And exactly 3 minutes later, he carried out the three remaining children: one in his arms, another on his shoulder, and the last one seated atop his head.

Each of them were giving him a nice massage, hitting him with their tiny fists.

Yes, this was going to be just fine.

❄❄❄

Things were very much not fine. 

The house was in disarray—tables and chairs were overturned, feathers from pillows had been pulled out, the mugs on the counter were now only shards of ceramic on the ground, and the lights were out. 

It looked like a thief had snuck in and ransacked the place.

After a long day at work, this was the state of chaos that Snow returned to. Armed with experience from past events, she immediately knew this had not been a thief’s doing, but her children’s. 

“Children!” Snow shouted as she sat herself down at the head of the table. “Get over here right now!” She crossed her arms and leaned back into the chair, tapping impatiently with one finger on her elbow.

Chaos ensued as a pattering of footsteps was heard. Seven children came running to the table, each fearfully taking their seats. A disheveled Mr. Dashing followed behind them.

“Who did this?” asked Snow, observing each of their expressions with a trained eye. They sunk into their seats guiltily, but none of them said anything. 

After a few minutes of no response, Snow put her arms on the table, no longer keeping up her facade, and rubbed her temples. Tiredly, she said, “I want all of you to clean this up in the next 15 minutes. Go.” The children scurried away to the storage closet in the corner of the room to take out the brooms and mops. 

Then she opened her eyes and looked at Mr. Dashing, who had been standing awkwardly to the side. “A word,” she said, gesturing to the chair beside her.

As he sat down, he said, “It wasn’t the children’s fault. It was mine.”

Hearing his words, the children all turned to look at him with wide eyes, blinking twice. Snow swept her gaze their way, and they hurriedly returned to their work. 

“No, it’s not your fault. The children are like this when I’m away. It’s your first day, so there’s no need to cover for them. If you can’t handle them, it’s fine and I can try to find someone else—”

“No, I can do it,” Hunter interrupted. 

Snow looked at him in surprise. All of the other babysitters she’d hired had been so willing to quit after an awful first day, but he...

“Are you sure?” asked Snow. 

“Yes. If I can’t figure out a way for them to behave by the end of the week, you can fire me.” She saw the determination in his eyes and nodded gratefully.

“Thank you, then,” she said quietly.

Then he turned and helped the children clean up their mess. 

❄❄❄

The next day in the afternoon, after teaching the children some simple addition and new vocabulary, Hunter gathered the children together in the living room.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Hunter asked the seven children as they sat in a small semicircle around him. They’d become much more responsive after he’d taken the blame for their mess. Even Grumpy begrudgingly accepted him. 

Happy raised his hand. 

“Yes, Happy?”

“We know what we want to be!” he said excitedly with an animated expression.

Hunter was curious. “And what’s that?” 

“Miners!” all of the children shouted joyfully.

“You’re already minors,” Hunter joked.

“That’s what Mother says!” (Hunter decided he liked Snow’s sense of humor.) “But we’re not miners yet! We want pickaxes and carts to hold all of the gold and diamond and jewels we mine!”

“Don’t you want to work in the city? Life in the mines is hard work,” he remarked.

“Mother says that too! Wow, Mr. Dashing, you two are so similar. But I guess all adults are like that.”

Hunter didn’t know how to feel about that.

“But anyway, why would we want to work in the city?” Sneezy said, holding in a sneeze. “Mother has to wake up soooo early and come back soooo late!” He sneezed promptly after finishing his sentence

“Yeah!” chimed in Doc in a sensible voice. “And we can make a lot of money if we mine a lot of jewels.”

“Mother says that the only thing we can rely on is—”

“Cold. Hard. Cash.” The children all spoke together. The synchronization made Hunter a bit worried. Well, more scared than worried. Is this what Snow was teaching them?!

“Well, children, money doesn’t always mean happiness—”

The children booed him, and poor Mr. Dashing could only give up.

 ❄❄❄

“How did you end up with seven children?” asked Hunter to Snow one morning on his third week of babysitting. Then he realized how strange that sounded. “I mean, that was a weird question. Rude, too. Sorry—”

“It’s okay,” replied Snow. “They’re not my children; they’re my sister, Rain’s. She passed away three years ago.”

“Oh” was all he could say. Seeing Snow’s visible sadness, he tried to steer the topic away. “Why are the children so... interested in money?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“They need to start understanding the importance of money from a young age,” said Snow matter-of-factly. “When they become adults, their lives will no longer be confined to schoolwork. I’m educating them about the real world!”

“Money doesn’t always buy happiness,” he said, his voice sounding certain. 

Snow glanced at him and then looked away in thought. “I used to think that too. I chose happiness, and I was planning to make my own video game company, not work at someone else’s where I get scolded everyday for no reason.” She had a faraway look in her eyes, like she wasn’t here, but lost in a sea of memories. 

“But that changed after my sister passed away. I realized that I couldn’t just chase after my dreams and not think about the reality of my situation. It wasn’t until then that I realized I wouldn't have a stable job and make enough money to support the children. And if I can’t support the children...” Her voice cracked.

Hunter was unsure what to say. He had never been an eloquent person, but he wanted to comfort her. He wouldn’t say he was very familiar with her, but he was somewhat close. After all, they talked every morning before Snow went to work, so it could be said that they were friends. He stayed silent, thinking.

Snow was grateful just knowing that he was listening. She’d never shared these thoughts with anyone. She couldn’t spill her worries to her children, and it’d been too long since she’d last contacted her family. There was a sense of distance. 

In fact, she didn’t even know why she was telling him all this, but she felt better after saying it out loud, like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Don’t you still want to start your own company?” he inquired, meeting her gaze.

Snow didn’t know how to reply. She knew what she should say, but for some reason, she couldn’t.

He nodded, as if knowing what she was thinking. “If you ever get around to doing that...” he said.

“What?”

“I’d like to help you start your own company.” There was a tone of certainty in his voice. 

Snow was speechless for a moment. “H-how?”

He smiled. “We’ll figure out a way. At least, with me here, I can help you take care of the children.”

After he said that, there was a long, though not uncomfortable, silence. 

Snow left for work blasting heavy metal music in her car, but all she could hear were his words as her thoughts that had been hidden away surfaced.

❄❄❄

A few afternoons later, the kids were in their room sleeping soundly for naptime, and Hunter finally got some peace and quiet. He sat at the table, checking their homework, marking incorrect answers with a blue pen and drawing smiley faces next to correct answers.

He had on a peaceful expression as he graded them. Thinking about how well he’d gotten to know them, he had a sense of satisfaction. 

He was grateful because if he hadn’t created that Mirror account, he wouldn’t have met Snow. And if he hadn’t been laid off from his job last week, he wouldn’t have met the children. 

His thoughts were interrupted by three firm knocks on the door. 

Looking out the window, he couldn’t see the person who knocked. Thinking that the person waiting outside must be freezing, he went to the door and opened it.

He was met with the sight of a woman who was elegantly dressed in purple with a silk wrap around her shoulders. She held a basket in her arm. What was inside was covered by a piece of cloth. Because he didn’t recognize her, he was hesitant to let her in. 

She spoke with a bright smile. “Hello, you must be Mr. Dashing. I’m Snow’s stepmother, Grimhilde White.”

“Ah,” he said in realization. He had heard from Snow that it was her stepmother who had introduced him to her. He allowed her to enter, and she walked over to the table and placed the basket on it. “You’re the one who set up Snow and I.”

“Yes,” she said with a smile.

“She didn’t seem to know it was a blind date though. She treated it more like an interview?”

“Ah yes, I apologize about that. It was the only way to make her go. Luckily, you two met and everything’s wonderful.”

“Yes,” he smiled. Then, he decided to ask, “Did you come here for the children?”

“Oh, I did, but it appears they are asleep for their afternoon nap, so we mustn’t disturb them.” He nodded as she continued, “I baked some gooseberry pie for you all. I had planned to stay for dinner, but I must rush back to the city to run some errands. Could I bother you to heat up the pie in the oven before dinner so everyone may eat it?”

Hunter nodded in understanding. 

“And,” she said with an overly warm smile, “You can tell Snow you made it. I’m sure she’ll love it even more.” 

Hunter felt uncomfortable with the thought of taking someone else’s work as his own. He was about to refute, but she seemed to read his mind and said, “Oh, no need to worry. I don’t mind.”

“Thank you then,” Hunter said.

Grimhilde left.

Hours later, it was late in the evening. Snow, Hunter, and the children had just finished dinner. They had saved some space for dessert after smelling the sweet scent of gooseberries coming from the oven.

Hunter took the pie that had been cooling on the counter over to the dinner table. The children drooled, looking on in anticipation as he cut the pie into nine pieces and placed each of them on a plate. The children began eating happily.

Snow dug into the pie with her fork, smelling the fragrant aroma. She lifted it in front of her eyes to admire the light glinting off of the clear filling. “You made this?” she asked as she placed it into her mouth, the sweet and tart taste flavoring her tongue. 

“Well, no. It was actually your step—” His voice abruptly cut off when he heard the sound of a fork clatter onto a plate. 

He turned to look at Snow. She was deathly pale, her eyes wide with fright and frozen in fear.

Snow felt her world tilt to the side. The last thing she saw were his terrified green eyes as she fell to the ground. 

And then everything fell into darkness.

❄❄❄

Snow woke with a pounding headache, and her vision was blurry. She saw a figure in white. She asked, her voice hoarse, “Where am I?”

A woman’s voice calmly replied, “This is the hospital. You were brought here after having a life-threatening allergic reaction.”

Memories came back to her in fragments. She recalled coming home, seeing her children, eating dinner...

The pie. There had been something in it. “Apple?”

“Yes,” said the woman, who she now realized was a nurse. 

Snow became lost in thought, and the nurse walked away to tend to another patient. 

Hunter must not have known she was allergic to apples. Not many people had an apple allergy, so it was normal that he didn’t know. She didn’t blame him. 

Just as she thought of him, he came rushing in through the door. “Snow,” he said, face red from running as he panted heavily. 

Hesitantly, he walked over to her hospital bed. His eyes were downcast as he rambled, his words spilling out one after the other, “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know that the pie had apples in it. Your stepmother brought it over, so I didn’t think there’d be any problem—”

“What?” she asked in disbelief. “Mother brought them?”

He looked at her. “Yes?”

Snow’s eyes hardened. “She knows I’m severely allergic to apples. There’s no way she would do that.”

Her eyes turned to him, suspicious, but then she saw the confusion in his eyes and shook away her suspicions. Though she’d only known him for a few weeks, she trusted him. He wouldn’t lie. 

She sighed, then steeled herself. She knew what she had to do.

❄❄❄

A few days later, Snow called her father to tell him about what had happened. At first, she wasn’t sure whether her stepmother had intentionally tried to kill her or not, but her father scoffed and informed Snow that Grimhilde did, in fact, have a motive to do so. If Snow died, her stepmother would inherit everything. 

Her father, being a lawyer, wanted to pursue legal action and send her to prison, because the matter was related to Snow’s life, but she didn’t want to make a huge deal out of it. She successfully persuaded her father to calm down. 

In the end, her father, who had a passion for freestyle-rap dad jokes, said, “I’ll just leave her out of the will. Her bank account ain’t never gonna fill” and was about to hang up when he suddenly remembered something important. 

His voice became softer, and he said, “And I’m glad you’re okay, Snow.” Then he abruptly hung up.

Snow just stared at her phone with wide eyes. She wasn’t particularly close to her father because she preferred to be independent, so his humor and sudden statement surprised her. 

She smiled, looking up at the bright, wide sky above her.

❄❄❄

A week later, Grimhilde still refused to confess even after the children (who faked taking their afternoon nap, much to Hunter’s relief and horror) confirmed that it was the stepmother who brought over the pie. Grimhilde stubbornly claimed she’d forgotten Snow was deathly allergic to apples and that it was a simple mistake, but no one believed her. Everyone in the family knew about the Apple Incident that had killed Snow’s sister on the day of her wedding.

Snow had suspicions that Grimhilde had planned on using Hunter, who she had introduced to Snow, as a scapegoat for her scheme.

What she didn’t know was how detailed Grimhilde’s plan had been. She had intentionally come during the children’s afternoon nap, so she thought the children wouldn’t know she came. Unfortunately for her, the children had been awake and spying on Hunter for fun. 

Hunter allowed her into the house, where she dropped off the gooseberry and apple pie. The children heard her words, telling him to take the credit for making the pie. That way, he would be the one to blame. She didn’t expect, however, that he wouldn’t take the credit (perhaps she’d never known someone could be so honest).

In any case, the scent of the gooseberries overpowered the apples, so no one knew there were apples in it until after Snow’d fainted.

Though there were no legal consequences because Snow did not press charges, everyone in Snow’s family knew about what had happened. There was enough compelling evidence for anyone to believe the truth: Grimhilde had intentionally tried to kill Snow.

And so, she was written out of Snow’s father’s will. When Grimhilde learned of this, she was so distraught that she packed her bags and left, never to be seen again.

❄❄❄

Looking at her own gaming company that she’d started a few months ago with help from Hunter and her father, Snow was filled with a sense of happiness, contentment, and accomplishment. 

After her relationship with her father grew closer, she told her father about her dream of opening her own company. She hadn’t expected anything of it and just wanted to share it with him. But the next day, her father informed her that he happened to have a property that he thought would be a good place for a start-up. 

Snow hadn’t told her father about her dream before. This was not only because she wanted to accomplish it herself, but also because she had to take care of the children. She felt it was too irresponsible to start her own company without taking the well-being of her children into consideration. 

However, things had changed. Ever since that morning Hunter reminded her of what she truly wanted, she’d been thinking about it, silently and carefully devising plans in her mind. Besides, she had him to care for the children with her.

Indeed, she still had concerns about the risks of starting her own company, but she decided she’d had enough of Minosoft. It was a toxic environment that she didn’t want to be a part of. With help from Hunter and her family, she was ready.

She took the opportunity, thanking her father profusely. 

Now, things had calmed down, and her company had just passed the early stages of development. Her game, affectionately named “Dashing Through The Snow,” was about to come out in a few months after final edits. 

Snow sighed happily, sipping her milk tea. They were sitting in a familiar coffee shop with the late summer sun shining through the window. 

“Remember when we first met?” asked Snow, reminiscing fondly. It wasn’t that long ago, but it felt that way to her, considering how much her life had changed in such a short period of time.

“Yeah,” he said lightly with a chuckle. “I came thinking it was a blind date.”

Snow spat her drink back into her cup, coughing and hacking, having inhaled a tapioca ball. “What?!”

He stirred his green tea with pearls with a straw and said nonchalantly, “Did I not tell you?”

“No?!”

“Oh. Haha.”

And they lived happily ever after.

❄ The End ❄