Enzo slapped a hand over his face, erupting into laughter. "I told you," he said between chuckles.
Adeline whipped her head toward him, pointing a finger at him. "No. No, no, no. You said it wouldn't taste the same as it used to. You did not say it would taste like literal ash."
"Same thing."
"No, it is not the same thing! I was expecting it to be, I don't know, bland—not like I just licked the bottom of a fireplace!"
Enzo only laughed harder, enjoying this far too much.
Adeline stared at the tub of ice cream, her mind reeling, unable to believe it. Ice cream—something so simple that once brought her joy—was now nothing more than cold, flavorless ash on her tongue. She couldn't eat it anymore.
And it wasn't just ice cream, but anything she once loved. The sweetness, the warmth of a fresh-baked pastry, the richness of chocolate—it was all gone. Forever.
