xvi. Purple
She stares at it, eyes narrowing. "Sam," she says, stifling a laugh. "It's purple."
"It's the beets. They're good for you."
"Beets are red. This is purple."
"It's the color it's supposed to be, all right?"
"Did you add grape juice?"
"Ainsley!" He tries not to smile. "At least I'm feeding you."
"Yes, but eating food that can kill me defeats the purpose."
"It's not going to kill you."
"Sam, have you ever cooked anything in your life before this?"
He pauses in speech, thinking. "Grilled cheese."
"Can we just order out?"
He crinkles his nose at the smell. "Thai?"