Sophia
I read Noah's text three times before finally responding, something cautious and hopeful stirring in my chest despite my best efforts to stay guarded.
**Me:** What kind of good news?
**Noah:** About the bakery. I'd rather tell you in person, if that's okay. Can I come by after you close tonight?
I agreed, and the rest of the afternoon passed in a strange, restless haze, my mind circling through every possible version of what he might be about to say. By the time I flipped the sign to closed that evening, my hands were trembling slightly as I wiped down the last of the counters, waiting for the bell above the door to announce his arrival.
He showed up right on time, and something about his posture, lighter than I'd seen it in weeks, gave me a small flicker of hope even before he
