Key trembling in hand, I unlock the door for the first time as the owner. The sign above my head gleams in the morning sun–my name, my dream, alling to life.


    The smell of fresh–baked bread fills the air. I’ve been here since four AM, pulling batch after batch from the ovens. Cinnamon rolls golden and perfect, sourdough loaves with crispy crusts, chocte croissants that would make a Parisian chef weep.


    Everything has to be perfect. This is my shot at a new start.


    “Mama, can I flip the sign?” Lily bounces on her toes, pointing to the “Closed” sign in the


    window.


    “Go ahead, sweetheart.”


    She turns it to “Open” and grins like she’s justunched a rocket to the moon. My brave little girl, who helped me paint these walls, who swept flour off the floor without being asked, who believes in me even when I don’t believe in myself.


    “Here we go,” I breathe.


    The first customer walks in before I can even get behind the counter.


    “Oh <i>my </i>goodness,” she gasps, looking around at the warm lighting and disy cases full of pastries. “This is beautiful. When did you open?”


    “Today. Right now, actually.”


    “Well then, I’m your very first customer!” She ps her hands together. “What do you


    rmend?”


    Pride swells in my chest as I point to my signature items. “The honey wheat bread is made with local ingredients. The cinnamon rolls are my specialty–I developed the recipe myself. And those chocte croissants are made with Belgian chocte.”


    She orders one of everything.


    By ten AM, there’s a line out the door. Word spreads fast in this neighborhood, and apparently, good food spreads even faster. My phone buzzes constantly with notifications- someone posted about us on social media, and it’s already being shared.


    <i>“</i>Scarlett, I can’t keep up!” calls Maya, my part–time baker, from behind the counter.


    < Chapter 14


    More Rewards >


    “I’ming!” I rush over with a fresh tray of muffins. “Chloe, can you help ring people up?”


    “On it!” Chloe grabs the register, but in her excitement, she trips over the step stool I left out. Papers fly everywhere as she catches herself on the counter.


    “You okay?”


    “Fine, fine! Just my usual grace,” sheughs, scrambling to pick up the scattered receipts.


    Meanwhile, Lily has appointed herself official greeter. She stands by the door in her little apron, saying “Wee to Mama’s bakery!” to everyone who walks in. Customers can’t get enough of her.


    “She’s adorable,” an older woman says, pulling out her phone. “Can I take a picture? This is so


    sweet.”


    “Of course.”


    Before I know it, half the customers are taking photos. Of the bakery, of the food, of Lily


    being the most charming three–year–old in existence.


    The lunch rush hits like a tidal wave. Office workers from nearby buildings, stay–at–home parents with their kids, construction workers who heard about us from the morning crowd. I’m pulling sandwich ingredients as fast as I can when I hear Chloe yelp.


    “Lily, <i>no</i><i>!</i><i>” </i>


    I look up to see my daughter with chocte all over her face, a half–eaten croissant in her hands. She’s sitting cross–legged on the floor behind the counter, lookingpletely content.


    “I was hungry,” she says matter–of–factly.


    “She grabbed it when <i>nobody </i>was looking,” Chloe says, but she’s trying not tough. “I turn


    around for two seconds…”


    “It’s fine. She’s been working hard too.” I wet a napkin and clean Lily’s face. “But next time, ask Mama first, okay?”


    A customer at the counter pulls out her phone. “This is too cute. Can I post this? The little owner sneaking treats from her own bakery?”


    “Sure.”


    Within an hour, that photo has a hundred likes. By evening, it’s in the thousands. #CutestBaker is trending locally, and my phone won’t stop buzzing with online orders.


    “This is insane,” Chloe says as we finally lock up at closing time. “Look at this.” She shows


    < Chapter 14


    me her phone screen–review after review, all five stars.


    “The bread here is incredible. Like nothing I’ve ever tasted.”


    “Hidden gem! Best bakery in the city.”


    “The owner is so sweet, and her daughter is precious.”


    I sink into a chair, exhausted but glowing. “We did it.”


    More Rewards >


    “You did it,” Chloe corrects. “This is all you, Scarlett. Four years ago, you could barely get out


    of bed. Now look.”


    I look around my bakery–empty disy cases, flour scattered on every surface, chairs pushed in for the night. It’s messy and chaotic and absolutely perfect.


    This is mine. I built this.


    “Mama, are we rich now?” Lily asks, curled up on the bench by the window. <fn5775> Chapters first released on ?ovelFind</fn5775>


    “No, habibti, it’ll take a while for us to be rich. But better than that, we now have something to rely on.”


    (Jasper’s POV)


    Another month passes, and I’m still nowhere near finding Scarlett.


    Grabbing the tray Mrs. Patterson sat on the table, I take a bite of the honey loaf, and something inside my chest tightens. The texture, the subtle sweetness, the way it melts on my tongue–it’s familiar in a way that makes my hands shake.


    “Where did <i>you </i>get this?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.


    Mrs. Patterson looks up from wiping down the kitchen counter. “There’s a new bakery on Main Street. Sunrise Bakes. Everyone’s talking about it.”


    “When did it open?”


    “About a month ago. The line was so long I almost didn’t wait, but the smell…” She sighs happily. “I haven’t had bread this good since my grandmother’s kitchen.”


    I stare down at the loaf in my hands. The crust is golden–brown, perfectly baked. When I press it gently, it springs back just right.


    “The owner must be very skilled,” I say carefully.


    “Oh


    yes.


    And she has the sweetest little girl. About three years old, maybe four. Helps her


    :


    <Chapter 14


    More Rewards >


    mama in the shop like a tiny adult.” Mrs. Patterson pulls out her phone. “I took a picture. So


    adorable.”


    She shows me the screen. Dark hair in pigtails. Serious brown eyes. A small face with delicate features and a stubborn chin.


    The phone slips from my hands and tters to the <i>floor</i>.


    “Sir? You look pale. Should I call a doctor?”


    “The address,” I shake my head. “Do you have the address of this bakery?”


    Mrs. Patterson looks worried, but she picks up her phone and shows me the location. “It’s on Main Street, between the flower shop and the bookstore. Mr. ke, are <i>you </i>sure you’re-”


    But I’m already grabbing my keys, running toward the door. My hands shake so badly I can barely start the car.


    Main Street. I know exactly where that is. I’ve driven past that corner a hundred times over the years. If she’s who I think she is…


    I shake my head. It’s not possible. Scarlett has been gone for four years.


    It’s probably just a coincidence that the pastries of this new shop taste like hers…


    But… it doesn’t hurt to be sure.


    The drive takes forever and no time at all. I park across the street and just sit there, staring at the cheerful yellow storefront with “Sunrise Bakes” painted in elegant script across the window.


    I get out of the car <i>on </i>unsteady legs and cross the street. The bell chimes when I push open the door, and the smell hits me like a physical force. Yeast and butter and cinnamon, mixed with something else I can’t name.


    Love, maybe. The way Scarlett’s kitchen used to smell when she was experimenting with new recipes, humming while she worked.


    “Wee to Sunrise Bakes!”


    Violet Moon


    #Vote#!


    < Chapter 15