The next morning I let myself into Simona’s kitchen and started breakfast. After putting water on to boil, I debated whether I should make a full breakfast from scratch, or serve the scones I’d made yesterday. I checked the fridge and saw evidence of a midnight raid. The scones were gone. I pulled what I needed from the pantry and rolled up my sleeves. More scones, or maybe some pancakes? I put the flour in the sifter and positioned it over the mixing bowl.
“Good morning.” Simona’s velvet voice carried from the hallway outside the kitchen. My hands jerked and flour flew everywhere as I yelped in surprise. I wasn’t used to her being up this early. I put the sifter down and untucked my blouse, lifting it away from my waist to assess the damage.
“What happened?”
I looked up and laughed. Th
