shadows of betrayal
The next morning, the continuous murmur of voices and the warm, sweet scent of cinnamon filled the bakery like a soft blanket, comforting yet suffocating all at once. Dawn light filtered through the front windows, catching dust motes that danced lazily in the golden beams. The bell over the shop door jingled every few minutes as locals shuffled in for their morning breads and pastries, stamping off sea spray and cold air from the restless shoreline outside.
With a practiced ease she was still perfecting, Emilia navigated the hustle and bustle, slipping between counters, kneading pliant dough, brushing butter onto flaky pastries, and welcoming customers with a grin she was only now beginning to believe. The smile wasn’t yet natural—it still tugged awkwardly at the edg
