Apple Seeds

“My name is Brenna,” she said, and she smiled at him, held out her cupped hands. “Would you like some of my apple?”

Apple. She was just holding an apple. The red was the skin of an apple. Fruit. Edible. Poison seeds, yes, but --

“Thank you,” Ciaran said. He set the bricks of peat down by her feet and reached out. He jumped when her fingers, sticky-damp with juice, tangled with his, and then she pressed half of the apple into his hand. She’d cut it in half, and he saw that the seeds formed a five-pointed star.