The night was calm, and the only sound in the house was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Lala lay in bed, tossing and turning. She wasn’t thinking about dreams or tomorrow’s plans—she was thinking about food. Her stomach gave a loud growl, and she knew there was no escaping it.
Quietly, she slipped out from under her blanket and tiptoed to the kitchen. The moonlight streamed through the window, casting a silvery glow over the countertops. Then she saw it—the chocolate cake she and her mom had baked earlier that day. It sat on the table, still looking as perfect as when it had come out of the oven, with a thick layer of creamy frosting glistening in the light.
Her eyes lit up. She reached for a plate but then decided, Why waste time? She took a fork and sat right there, eating straight from the cake. Each bite was soft, sweet, and comforting—just what she needed. The rich chocolate melted in her mouth, and she closed her eyes, savoring the flavor.
Halfway through her midnight snack, she heard a creak behind her. Turning around, she saw her mom standing in the doorway, rubbing her eyes and smiling.
“Couldn’t sleep?” her mom whispered.
“I was… uh… checking if the cake was still fresh,” Lala replied with a guilty grin.
Instead of scolding her, her mom grabbed another fork and joined her. The two of them ate together in the quiet kitchen, laughing softly so they wouldn’t wake anyone else.
By the time they finished, the cake was nearly gone. Lala felt warm and happy—not just from the food, but from the shared midnight moment. She went back to bed with a full stomach and a fuller heart.
