The Hardscrabbles’ collective trainers made an awful squeaky sound against the floor as they passed several small alcoves that half hid spiralling staircases. “Here we are,” Haddie said, and led them into a small round room that was a kitchen of some sort. It had a little pink play oven that reached no higher than Lucia’s hip, as well as a tiny pink play refrigerator. There was a real sink, though much squatter than a normal one. In the middle of the room was a small pink plastic table with four tiny pink chairs, the backs of which were shaped like hearts. Haddie nodded toward it. “Sit. Hungry?” They were. Haddie opened the tiny play refrigerator and looked inside. There couldn’t have been much in there, but still she stared inside thoughtfully for quite a while. Finally, she pulled out two jars of something or other and a loaf of bread. Using a pink plastic knife, Haddie slathered the bread with the contents of the jars, then handed each of the children a sandwich on pink plastic tea saucers.
