“Hey, want to help us make dinner?” Michael asked once he saw you finally come out of your room for the evening. His red eyes flashed with amusement and his cheeks dimpled whenever smiled, “I can eat you for din—“ “Michael, don’t be crude,” Sam snapped. He looked refined and dignified as always. He cracked an egg and put it in the bowl to be mixed. “I’m making a small cake.” Michael stared at Sam. “I wanted cupcakes.” Sam looked up. “We don’t have a pan to make cupcakes.”