The evening light filtered gently through the curtains of the living room, painting long, streaks across the wooden floor. The bakery’s books lay open on the table — the numbers balanced, neatly recorded in columns.

Elena picked up her phone and called Gabriela.

“Hey, Gabriela,” she said "it’s been a long week. I think you should take the day off tomorrow.”

There was a pause. “A day off? Why? Did something happen?” Gabriela’s tone carried a hint of concern, maybe even ...