Phoebe's POV
"Good morning, Phoebe!"
I stopped in my tracks, looking at the little girl whose complexion had clearly improved. My voice softened automatically. "Morning. What's with the sudden interest in running?"
Harriet had been at this for days now. Her weak constitution meant she'd be gasping for air after just a short jog. "My brother says I'm too weak, so he wants me running every morning for a while to get stronger."
I nodded approvingly. "Smart guy. Regular exercise is good for your body—might even help you grow taller."
Harriet's eyes practically sparkled. "Really?"
Poor kid had been malnourished since she was little, leaving her way shorter than other kids her age. The mention of growing taller had her hooked on the idea of morning runs.
"Wait, Phoebe, why are you buying so many herbs? Are you sick?" As I unloaded my motorcycle, the thoughtful little girl rushed over to help.
