Chapter 42
The morning began quietly. Sunlight filtered through the kitchen windows while Grandma rolled biscuit dough across the floured countertop. The familiar rhythm of the rolling pin blended with the hiss of bacon in the pan and the steady clink of Grandpa stirring far more sugar into his coffee than anyone believed necessary. "You're trying to sweeten the entire pot," Grandma said without looking up. "I'm improving it." "You've added three spoonfuls already." "It needed help." "It needed one." "It needed hope." Brielle laughed as she stepped into the kitchen, drawn in by the familiar exchange. "You've been arguing about coffee again?" "We're discussing quality," Grandpa corrected. "We're discussing stubbornness," Grandma replied, dusting another handful of flour across the counter be
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