Betty woke face-down in candy sand, her limbs already going soft. The sun pressed down like a hand flattening dough. She pushed herself up and watched her fingerprints stay behind in the golden grains, little dimples that didn't spring back. The heat was making her edges blur. She needed shade, fast, or she'd puddle into nothing before she ever found the candy maker who understood impossible flavors. She stumbled forward and nearly tripped over something hard. A stick, bleached bone-white, jutted from the sugar-coated ground. Sticky residue still clung to it in patches. Someone else had been here, probably another gummy like her. Probably melted into the sand when the sun got too high. Betty pressed her thumb against her forearm and watched it sink in too far. She was running out of time. Ahead, something shimmered through the heat waves. Colors swirled against the brutal white sky. Pink and blue and yellow, stacked high like a child's dream. Betty squinted. A building. Ice cream, maybe, impossibly solid despite the heat. Real or not, it was her only chance. She made herself move faster, each step leaving deeper prints as her feet softened. The building held its shape as she got closer. Three tiers of ice cream with a cherry on top, windows cut into the frozen swirls, a wooden door at the base. Betty grabbed the handle and pulled. Cool air rushed out, so cold it hurt. She dragged herself inside and collapsed on the floor. The door swung shut behind her. In the sudden shade, she felt her body start to firm up again. Through the window, she could see the candy sands stretching forever. Somewhere out there, the impossible flavor maker was waiting. But first, she needed to stop melting.