My bakery—Doce Clara—had become a must-stop on the city’s tourist route, and I couldn’t have been prouder.
It wasn’t big. It wasn’t luxurious. But it was mine. Every detail chosen by me. Every recipe built with love and stubborn dedication. In that small space, I had rebuilt my life—brick by brick, pastry by pastry, memory by memory.
“Good morning, Valentina! Good morning, little Clara!” Júlia’s cheerful voice rang out as she walked in.
“Good morning, Aunt Júlia!” Clara ran to her and wrapped her arms around Júlia’s legs.
“Good morning, Júlia,” I smiled, sliding an espresso across the counter before she even asked. She laughed as she picked up the cup.
“You know me too well.”
“For five years I’ve served you the exact same coffee every morning,” I teased. “It’s not hard to predict.”
“And I keep saying it’s the best coffee in town,” Júlia insisted, taking a sip and sighing as if she’d just tasted heaven.
I watched her with quiet affection. She had taken me in without questions from the first day I arrived—pregnant, lost, and desperate for a new beginning. With her, and with this community, I had found more than friends.
I had found a family.
“Have you heard the latest?” Júlia asked, her tone suddenly more serious.
“What latest?”
“A huge company wants to build a luxury resort here in Tiradentes. They’re buying land, tearing down historic properties, and promising to bring in thousands of tourists. People are saying it could change the town completely.”
My brow furrowed, unease crawling under my skin. It wasn’t the first time something like this threatened our peace, but something in Júlia’s expression made my stomach tighten.
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Because it isn’t,” she said, grim. “They’re talking about tearing down this entire street, Val. Including your bakery. All to build an international resort.”
My heart clenched so hard it hurt.
I glanced at Clara—innocently arranging sweets behind the glass—and my whole body lit up with that immediate, fierce instinct that lived in me now.
Protect. Shield. Fight.
I would not let anyone destroy what it took me years to build.
“That’s insane. They can’t just push people out like that,” I murmured, forcing a slow breath.
“Apparently they can,” Júlia replied heavily. “You know how it is. Big companies do what they want. They don’t care about us.” She sighed. “It’s going to be hard to fight them.”
“But not impossible,” I said, my voice sharpening with determination. “We’ll bring everyone together. We’ll resist. I’m not letting anyone destroy what’s ours without a fight.”
Relief softened Júlia’s face. She reached across the counter and squeezed my hand.
“I knew I could count on you.”
I watched her leave with one last comforting smile, and then the familiar chime of an incoming video call on my phone cut into my thoughts.
When my mother’s smiling face lit up the screen, a wave of longing rushed through my chest so suddenly it almost stole my breath.
“Good morning, sweetheart!” she greeted me, warm and bright.
“Hi, Mom.” A smile came automatically as I leaned against the counter, lifting the phone so I could see her better. “How’s everything over there?”
She sighed dramatically, putting on an exaggerated, playful sorrow.
