Her mouth moved, and even though Hannah couldn't hear her, she knew what she was saying.
Can we get cookies?
Emily turned to her mother, eyes wide with hope.
Hannah held her breath.
She already knew what would happen.
And sure enough, Mrs. Peterson hesitated, her lips pressing into a tight line before she gently pulled her daughter back.
Not here.
Hannah's stomach twisted as she watched them walk away.
It shouldn't hurt anymore.
But God, it did.
She turned back to the dough, pressing her palms into it harder than necessary.
And then?—
Something shifted. One mother had stopped.
Not Emily's. But another. Lisa Connors.
Her son, Mikey, was looking at the window too, bouncing on his heels. Hannah saw the moment Lisa almost pulled him away—almost followed the script of every other parent who had walked this same street for months.
But she hesitated. Then, slowly, carefully—she let let Mikey tug her toward Hannah's bakery. Hannah's breath caught in her throat.
She swallowed hard, ignoring the tightness in her chest.
It was small. But it was something.
The bell chimed.
Hannah forced herself to breathe, to keep her movements steady as she wiped her flour-covered hands on her apron.
Mikey bounced on his toes near the counter, his eyes wide as he took in the display case. Lisa stood just behind him, her hand still on his shoulder, like she wasn't quite sure they should be there.
"Hi, Mrs. Connors." Hannah's voice came out softer than she intended. "Mikey."
"Hi, Miss Hannah!" Mikey pressed his face against the glass, exactly like he used to. "Do you still have the chocolate chip ones? The big ones?"
Hannah's throat tightened. Of course she still had them. She'd kept making them every day, even when no children came. It had been stubborn and foolish and Hannah didn't regret it for a moment now.
"Fresh out of the oven about an hour ago." She reached for the tongs, hesitating. "Would you like one?"
Mikey looked up at his mother, hopeful. "Can I, Mom? Please?"
Lisa's fingers tightened slightly on his shoulder. For a moment, Hannah thought she might change her mind—might remember all the reasons the town had decided Sugar & Spice wasn't safe anymore.
But then Lisa nodded. Once. Sharp. "One cookie."
Hannah's hands trembled slightly as she lifted the biggest cookie from the tray. She slipped it into a paper bag, the familiar motion carrying the weight of everything that had changed.
Mikey took the bag with both hands, already pulling out the cookie. "Thanks, Miss Hannah!" He took a big bite, chocolate smearing the corner of his mouth. "It's just like I remembered!"
