Chapter 3

Looking at the large platter of dark red, shriveled bread paired with milk, my stomach began to ache faintly.

"I'll just take one piece of bread," I said.

Connor tilted his head in confusion. "Morgan, why is your appetite as small as a bird's?"

He double-checked to ensure I couldn't eat any more of the bread, then handed me the only glass of milk available.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to drink it due to my dairy allergy, so I had to decline his kind offer.

"Thanks, Connor," I said.

"Morgan, best friends shouldn't say thank you to each other," he replied.

The moment I bit into the bread, regret washed over me. Even with my allergy, I probably shouldn't have turned down the milk.

I couldn't understand how a strawberry-flavored loaf could be as hard as a rock, and it nearly chipped my teeth.

It was clear that the promises made by the boss couldn't be trusted, yet going without them meant enduring starvation.

I managed to finish the piece of bread with great difficulty.

Throughout the afternoon, I kept running my tongue over my teeth, feeling as though the shriveled bread had genuinely damaged them.

I wondered if such an injury could even be classified as a workplace accident.

The heat intensified as the afternoon progressed, resulting in a significant drop in the number of visitors energetic enough to walk over to the circus.

Despite the lull, Connor and I weren't allowed to stop working.

Taking advantage of Victor's absence, I stealthily retrieved a lace-trimmed noblewoman's umbrella from the prop room to block the sun.

I shuffled over to Connor, who was standing perfectly upright at the circus entrance, and stretched my arm as high as possible to offer him some shade as a return favor for the bread.

"Thank you, Morgan, but I'm not afraid of the sun," Connor said. Despite his words, he still took the lace umbrella from me to hold it himself.

The moment the ornate umbrella entered his grip, it appeared to shrink to half its size, resembling a toy umbrella held by a fully grown adult.

However, since someone else was holding it, I didn't need to exert any more effort.

I crossed my arms and leaned slightly against Connor's arm to absorb the cool sensation radiating from his body, soon becoming drowsy. The lack of visitors left me with zero motivation to work.

As I drifted off, I noticed Connor staring at me with a strange gleam in his eyes, accompanied by the faint sound of him swallowing his saliva.

His stomach rumbled loudly, suggesting he hadn't eaten enough at noon. At that moment, he didn't look like a clown at all. He looked more like an ogre.

Rubbing the goosebumps on my arms, a wave of fear washed over me. A slender arm like mine would probably feel like a crunchy fry to him.

Yet, because I wasn't willing to leave the comfort of the shade, I chose to ignore his unusual behavior. I reasoned that if hitting a colleague resulted in termination, eating one would surely bring far more severe consequences.

When evening arrived, my dinner privilege wasn't revoked. I still opted for only a single piece of bread and handed the remaining food over to Connor.

Connor gave me another tight hug and pulled out a fresh strawberry lollipop from his pocket. Guilt instantly gripped me; I shouldn't have misidentified such a good person as an ogre. I was truly terrible.

After finishing the bread, drowsiness overcame me again. I propped my head up with my hand, waiting for Connor to finish his dinner.

"Well, well, when did that fool Connor get himself a friend?" An unpleasant voice echoed from a short distance away.

I blinked open my eyes to see a colleague who played the role of the butcher. Connor was focused on his food and completely ignored the mockery.

I shook my head to clear the grogginess, only to hear the butcher continue his taunts. "Don't tell me this girl is a saving angel sent by the boss for that fool? A little angel and a fool truly make a perfect match."

I slapped the table as I stood up to confront him. "Who are you calling a fool?"

The butcher blurted out, "A fool is calling you."

A smile tugged at my lips, and I gave him a thumbs-up. "Alright, you big fool."

"You sly fox," he shot back.

The butcher froze for a moment before realizing he had been tricked. He grabbed his large axe and walked toward us with a menacing expression.

Connor, who had been completely absorbed in his food, hadn't noticed the conflict at all, simply staring at the butcher in confusion with a piece of bread still in his mouth.