Ava’s POV

I woke up with that same tight feeling in my chest, the one that never really went away. By the time I reached the bakery, the shelves were already filled with pastries neatly arranged, warm, and familiar. I kept my hands busy, moving trays and wiping counters, hoping the routine would quiet the thoughts in my mind that refused to let go.

I wiped down the counter again, trying to focus on the task rather than the gnawing silence inside me.

So much time had passed, but ...