Sienna's POV

Hands trembling slightly, I fit the key into the lock and turn it. The door swings open, and for the first time, I enter as the official owner. Above me, bold letters etched into the freshly painted sign beam in the sunlight. My name. My dream. Tangibly real.

The aroma of warm, freshly baked bread greets me as I step inside. Since four in the morning, I’ve stood over the ovens, pulling out trays of pastries. Cinnamon rolls perfectly golden, with just ...