[ instead of whispering right away, trucy opens her mouth and seems to immediately deflate. she leans back on her heels and looks off to the side, like the truth is eating her up inside yet she can't bear to say it. ]

I... I... [ she clutches over her brooch, revealing the emptied cup of strawberry ice cream in her other hand. she's been eating a lot of ice cream today.

she breathes in deeply, dredging up courage. ]

I don't actually like my Daddy's cooking. [ i know this is too coincidental but i, trucy's player, think it would be funny. ] I only pretend to like it, but I just make it "disappear" and feed it to the neighbor's dog later...