Sienna’s POV

I keep today’s goal small on purpose: it’s my birthday, so every customer gets a scuffle.

Another tray of birthday soufflés slides into the oven. Warmth rolls out, carrying vanilla and lemon through the bakery. The tops are already turning that perfect golden color, the kind that promises a light bite and just enough sweetness.

“Mama,” Lyra says, practically vibrating beside me, a smear of flour bright on her cheek, “they smell like ...