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Sue Ellen peeked around the door into the room where Dylan rested. She tried to ignore the panic that hovered around Skye's face as she lay another compress onto Dylan's wound. Sue Ellen let her foot scrap against the floor. When Skye looked up at her, she said, "Mrs. Gilmore sent over some bread for you with the Watch. Do you or Dylan want any?"

Skye's lips slightly curled. The Watch had quickly begun to be used by the older ones, if not others, as more than protection. When everything was calm, they transformed into a kind of delivery system. 

Nodding, Skye said, "Yes, I'd love some, and a slice for Dylan too. He may like some when he wakes up."

Sue Ellen looked at Dylan's sallow face and bit her lip. She nodded and went back to the kitchen. She gathered up her mess of curls as she went tying them up in a ponytail holder. Once in the kitchen, she cut two slices of bread. After a bit of hesitation, she cut two more.

The loaf of bread was still hot when Joe had cheerfully brought it in. He had tweaked Sue Ellen's nose, and she had giggled. Joe had laughed at her, never seeing the look of dislike that had covered the girl's face as she turned away. 

She patiently waited as Joe headed back to see his buddy, Dylan. When his visit was over, Sue Ellen's eyes followed Joe as he left out the solid front door. His head down, he didn't say anything to her.

The instant the door closed, Sue Ellen ran to the steaming bread. She salivated as she cut through the flaky crust to the fluffy, light interior. She'd ran a finger along the white softness and gathered up a bunch on it, stuffing it in her mouth. 

She cut herself a think slice and loaded it with butter. After watching the pale-yellow, homemade goodness liquify and ease into the chewy fibers of the bread, she stuffed the whole piece in her mouth as fast as she could. 

It tasted amazing. So Sue Ellen peeked down the hallway and made sure the coast was clear, then sliced off another piece and another, enjoying the chewy goodness until the loaf was half gone.

As she sighed, the girl buttered Skye and Dylan a piece each, then the two others. The bread was barely warm now, but she reckoned by the time she delivered Skye's pieces, the butter would be melted on her other two pieces.

After giving Skye the bread and two glasses of water, Sue Ellen congratulated herself that she'd also thought to offer water and returned to the kitchen. Just as she had anticipated, the butter had melted. She put the slices on a plate and sat in the large, stuffed recliner in the corner of the nature-themed livingroom, pulling a blanket over her outstretched legs.

She patted her tight, extended stomach wondering if she would be able to fit the next two pieces in. But the sight of them was too much to pass up, so she crunched down on the crust of the first one. As she did so, she wondered how, the baker of the bread, Mrs. Gilmore was doing.

Mrs. Gilmore adored Sue Ellen, and Sue Ellen wasn't one to let such adoration go by without being of some use. For as long as the girl could remember, her wild, blond curls and large blue eyes were as natural a weapon for her as Dylan's bow was for him. She used them as often and as expertly as she could.

Sue Ellen stopped by Mrs. Gilmore's regularly, receiving treats in the form of baked goods every time she did so just for looking like a cute little girl. She had surprised herself by liking the old woman some, so she helped her do chores from time to time. The woman missed her family.

The girl held her impatience during the many times Mrs. Gilmore cried, and long and loud, blew her nose as she told Sue Ellen about the many children and grandchildren she'd lost to the AgFlu. Sue Ellen felt it was what was expected of her as the woman now had only one daughter, Nadine, and a thirteen-year-old loser grandson out of the forty-three she used to call family.

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