But have I ever earned trust?
Have I ever earned a place?
The idea that she might let me back into that kitchen, not because of my name, not because of what I can offer, but because I showed up again, makes my chest ache in a way I don’t recognize.
I check my phone once more.
No messages from Tess. Of course not.
I don’t expect any.
Tomorrow.
I set an alarm for 4:30 a.m.
Then, after a second’s hesitation, I set another for 4:15.
If she says no, I’ll take it.
If she says yes…
I close my eyes, the smell of yeast and sugar lingering in my memory like a promise.
Tomorrow, I’ll find out if I get to earn it.
Chapter 6
Tess
It always takes a while for the bakery’s heating to kick in. It’s 4:12 a.m., and I’m freezing.
I flick on the overhead lights one row at a time. The slow reveal gives me a second to brace myself. This place doesn’t lie to me. It just… is.
I tie my apron, double-knotting it out of habit, and reach for the first bin of flour. Fifty pounds. I hoist it onto the table with a grunt that echoes in the empty space.
“Show off,” Gwen says behind me.
“Look who decided to finally show up,” I reply without turning. She knows I’m joking. From the start, I told her she could come in at 5 a.m. if she wanted, but she always starts earlier.
“It’s 4:14,” she says. “If I were any earlier, I’d legally still be a ghost.”
I glance over my shoulder. She’s tying her apron, hair in a messy bun that will not survive the morning, eyes sharp despite the hour. She’s holding two coffees.
She slides one across the counter to me. I grunt approval and take a sip. It tastes like survival.
“So,” she says lightly, leaning back against the counter. “Did you sleep?”
“I did,” I lie.
She hums. “And did you dream about anything interesting? Perhaps a new colleague?”
I close my eyes. Count to three. “If you say his name before 5 a.m., I will legally be allowed to fire you.”
“You can’t fire me,” she says cheerfully. “I know where you hide the emergency croissant stash.”
I laugh while dumping flour into the mixing bowl, the fine white dust blooming into the air. “We’re not talking about him. It’s too early.”
“You’re the one who told him to come back,” Gwen says mildly.
