Alysha: Naughty

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

"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. naughty alysha

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

She didn't just take it. She unwrapped it there , letting the crinkle sing a sharp, crisp note into the quiet room. Kevin looked up. Alysha met his gaze, held the chocolate up like a stolen jewel, and bit into it slowly. A smear of red syrup painted her grin. Naughty Alysha knew the exact weight of a cookie on her palm

Naughty Alysha didn't break rules. She proved they were just suggestions for lesser criminals.