Sophia
I woke that Tuesday morning with a strange, nostalgic feeling settling over me before I even fully remembered why the date felt significant, the realization arriving slowly as I moved through my usual routine of unlocking the bakery before sunrise.
One year. Exactly one year since a stranger in a delivery uniform had walked through that door, claiming Dan was out sick, completely unaware of how thoroughly he was about to upend my entire life.
I smiled to myself, pulling the first tray of croissants from the oven, an old habit resurfacing without conscious thought as I set one aside on the counter, wrapped carefully in parchment paper, exactly the way I used to during those very first weeks of his deliveries.
Noah arrived a little after seven, right on schedule, though he no long
