Kyra wiped the sweat off her forehead and hugged the wall as she crept forward, an inch a minute. The alley she was in had the faint lingering smell of tofu and rice. She shuddered, thinking of the peas and liver that were undoubtedly waiting in her apartment.

She had proven to be rather uncooperative after the rebellion. Ever since they had traced her to the crime at the President’s involving all sorts of sugary delights, she had been assigned her own personal chef. Kyra wasn’t even allowed in a grocery store, anymore. Not since they banned sugar.

She licked her lips, thinking of how that first bite would taste. She had just recieved the coded message, but was only minutes away from Tag’s hiding spot. He had, miraculously, smuggled in a box of muffins. She heard he might even have, dare she hope, chocolate muffins. Kyra couldn’t stand another day without something sweet.

She found the door and knocked the secret knock. As she slipped into the building, she laughed. She just risked her life for a muffin.