They were the best candy apples I had ever made, glossy and black, dipped in chopped pistachios and edible glitter. Mikey peeled one off the cookie sheet and bit into it. It took him a few tries to crack the caramel. He gave me a gruesome, black-and-green grin.
Mom turned one over in her hand, frowning. “These look different. Which recipe did you use?”
I handed her the parchment paper covered in Grandma’s spidery handwriting.
Mom dropped the note and looked at my brother. “Oh no. No, no, no.”
“Mom, what?”
With a loud pop, Mikey turned into a toad.
Author’s Note: Candy apples always look magical to me.
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