The alarm clock blared its usual shrill tone at 5:00 AM, slicing through the darkness of my room like a knife.

Usually, this sound triggered a panic response. It meant I had fifteen minutes to shower, dress, and run to the bakery to start the dough for the morning rush. It meant another day of servitude to Thomas Vale, working off a debt that he never intended to let me repay. It was a normal routine I had grown accustomed to.

But today, I didn't flinch.

I stared at the glowing red numbers in ...