Who Stole The Cookie From The Cookie Jar Game Novels & Stories

He plucked one warm cookie from the tray and took a bite right in front of me. Satisfied, I turned back to grab the oven mitts—and that’s when I heard it. The unmistakable sound of soft, guilty giggles followed by the quick patter of little feet darting out of the kitchen. I spun around just in time to see Steven making a run for it, a big chocolate cookie clenched tightly in his hands like a prize. I gasped. “You gave it to him!” Jay raised his hands in mock surrender. “In my defense, he bullied it out of my hands.”

He mused as he was munching on the delicious cookies. “Who else would?” I shrugged. Well, thanks to Lin for teaching me the process. This was the same cookies I’d prepare the day lucita came to ruin the moments. Pfff! I opened my mouth as Jericho picked a cookie and approached it to my mouth but it was a trick. He ate it instead. I frowned and playfully hit him. “Ouch...” he pretended to be hurt and while we were at it, playing like kids, someone trudged in. Yup! The bad news called 'Lucita'.

“Then, why were you guys dragging over food?” “Hmm, we heard Stella baked the Queen some fresh batch of cookies, so we came to take some,” Trevor said, and my eyes widened instantly. “What?! My cookies? How dare you guys take my cookies?” I angrily walked towards them and snatched the cookie jar they were hiding behind them. I handed the jar to Azriel and he took it and went to hide it somewhere in the house. “Tell Stella to bake some for you guys if you want, don't touch mine," I said, feeling slightly irritated.

I step out of the shadows and lean against the wall. “So who planned the heist to steal the cookies, hm?” My voice causes Noah and Ella to jump. Ella screams and Noah’s eyes widen. They stare at me and push the cookie container down the counter and away from them. “Noah told me to do it!” Ella immediately admits, pointing at Noah. He gasps and points back at her. “She told me that if I didn’t do it, she’d hide my trucks!” I laugh and rest my hands on my hips, finally walking towards them. I grab the container and open it up, handing them each a cookie.

As I walked around the village, enjoying my little freedom, I came across a bunch of kids playing one of my favorite games. Catch the thief. Grinning, I rushed towards them. "Who will be the thief?" A boy with green eyes and curly brown hair asked. The kids all shared a look amongst themselves, no one willing to be the thief. "Camie, you be the thief," the boy pointed at girl with pigtails and she frowned. "No Denver, I refuse to the thief. Let Coby be the thief," she huffed, looking away. "I'm not interested in being the thief either," a boy wearing glasses with black hair retorted. I guess that must be Coby.

He looked at me. Then at the pantry. Then back at me. "...What are you doing?" "Nothing." "You have cookies behind your back." "I don't." "...Luna." "...Maybe a little." His gaze lingered on my hands. "Why are you hiding them?" I blinked. "...Because I'm stealing them." Silence. His brows drew together ever so slightly. "Stealing?" "The kitchen is yours." "So?" "So..." I shifted awkwardly. "...I'm taking your food." "You were hungry."

They probably looked ridiculous, fighting over a cookie when there was a full plate a few feet away, but luckily, no one was around to witness it. They wrestled at the table until he managed to get both her wrists in one hand, his grip so tight she couldn’t pull free. With his free hand, he grabbed both cookies and shoved them in his mouth at the same time. Cookie crumble went everywhere, including on Irene, but for some reason it was funny and not gross. “You cheated,” she accused, still trying to free herself. “You can’t eat them like that. It’s not fair!” Crumbs flew everywhere as he attempted to speak around his bulging mouthful, causing her to shriek and pull away. He finally released h

Shane’s voice was steady, though his hands clenched tightly. “She looked out the window when the voice said not to. They don’t like it when you disobey.” “The what?” Shane didn’t answer her question right away. His eyes lingered on the girl with the rose blooming from her mouth, then slowly turned back to Farrah. “The ones who run this… whatever it is… they call it a game,” he said quietly. “But it’s not a game anyone wants to play.” Farrah’s hands clenched into a fist… “She’s dead, isn’t she?”