Noah
Sophia had mentioned it a few days earlier, almost in passing, the way she mentioned most things about the bakery's rhythms that had become second nature to her over the years. Every few months, she hosted what she called Sunday Mornings at Sweet Crumbs, a casual gathering where regulars and neighbors dropped by for coffee, pastries, and easy conversation before the official opening hours began.
"You should come," she'd said, sliding an extra croissant across the counter like the invitation was the simplest thing in the world. "It's nothing fancy. Just people who care about this place, hanging out for a few hours."
I showed up a little before eight that Sunday, the shop already buzzing with a warmth I hadn't quite experienced there before, different from the usual rush of the weekd
