I miss this bakery so much.
The thought hits me like the smell of freshly baked bread when I step inside Everhart Bakery. My bakery. The place I poured my heart into, where every corner holds a memory of my mother—her laughter, her recipes, her love for Christmas. But today, I’m not thinking about Christmas. Today, I’m thinking about the chaos I’ve let my life become.
“Good morning, Selina!” My head baker greets me with her usual cheer as she pulls a tray of golden croissants from the oven. The sight makes me smile despite myself.
“Morning. Everything running smoothly?”
“Of course! But I’m glad you’re here. The customers will be thrilled to see you.”
I glance at the counter, where the display case is already stocked with an array of pastries, tarts, and cookies. It’s perfect. Just lik
