Ally's POV

　　Measuring cups clink together as I gather ingredients, each movement deliberate, grounding. Flour dusts the air, and I can't help but smile, a real one, as I think of how Elliot's serious eyes would widen in fake horror at the mess I'm making.

　　"Elliot," I whisper, his name a secret shared between these four walls and me, "you'd scold me for sure."

　　The dough comes together beneath my hands, pliable and sweet, a creation born of necessity ...