Sumy’s POV
The morning sunlight slanted through the small window of our home, painting lines across the wooden floor. I had been awake long before dawn, as always.
I sat near the low table, kneading dough with my hands, the flour clinging to my fingers and arms. The bakery was small, just two rooms joined together with the house, but it was enough. The smell of rising bread already filled the air.
Ethan had been the one that convince me to start the bakery. “People will always need bread, Sumy,” he had said, and he wasn’t wrong. Still, it wasn’t the revenge my blood cried out for.
Behind me, I heard little footsteps pattering against the floor. Luke and Mark came running into the room, their laughter bouncing off the walls. Luke’s hair stuck up wildly at the back, and Mark had flour o
