Jack’s POV
The kitchen smelled like sugar, smoke, and flour—an odd mixture that clung to the air and to my clothes. Jennifer had already slipped away, cheeks flushed, hair dusted white from the chaos. She mumbled something about needing to change and disappeared down the hall, her steps light but hurried.
The kids were still buzzing like bees, retelling the scene in exaggerated bursts.
“She looked like a snow lady!” Aria chirped, clapping her little flour-dusted hands.
“No, a doll,” Caelan corrected solemnly, though his lips twitched with amusement. “A porcelain doll. Except her face went pink when she laughed.”
“Her laugh was funny,” Ronan added, grinning. “Like she was trying not to.”
Their voices tangled together until Ava finally swept in, her presence alone settling the storm. S
