And then—
He screamed.
It’s not a playful scream.
It’s not a dramatic gasp.
A real scream, high-pitched and surprised.
My heart dropped.
I got closer, and when I looked at what I’d discovered, my stomach turned.
It wasn’t chocolate.
It wasn’t candy.
It wasn’t part of the cone.
It was a foreign object stuck in the ice cream.
The horror beneath the chocolate
There, stuck in the frozen center, was a piece of broken packaging material, dark, wrinkled, and partially soaked in the ice cream.
It looked like plastic.
Not small.
Not even visible.
Big enough that, had he bitten down harder or softer, he would have swallowed it.
I felt a wave of horror wash over me.
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