Maria woke before the sun fully settled into the sky.
The kitchen light glowed soft and yellow as she moved around it barefoot, tying her robe tighter around her waist. The smell of butter warming in the pan filled the small apartment, followed by the gentle sizzle of eggs. She moved on instinct. Toast popping up, coffee brewing, a pot of oatmeal simmering low. Cooking calmed her. It gave her hands something to do when her thoughts refused to stay still.
She served the food carefully, as if the presentation might somehow make the morning easier for everyone.
Maria packed everything into a cute little basket and grabbed her a small bag and locked the door behind her.
Emilia's house smelled like brewed tea when she arrived. Setting down her basket on the table.
“You didn't have to do al
