Eira’s POV
The neighborhood bakery smells like yeast and warm sugar. Sunlight catches the flour dust hanging in the air, turning it into a soft, golden haze. It’s loud. Two kids are arguing over a honey bun near the counter, and the ovens hum with a deep, steady vibration.
Mrs. Agatha is standing by the register, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
"You hunters finally scared whatever was bothering this place," she says, tapping her cane against the floorboards. "Haven't seen a single stray dog acting crazy since Tuesday."
She smiles to herself as the baker wraps another loaf.
"Maybe I'll plant flowers outside the bakery again."
She glances toward the front windows, where two children race past laughing.
"And perhaps the little ones can finally stay out after dinner without
