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“Don’t worry about the cleanup, dear. I’ll take care of it,” Rosa offered.

Madelaine shook her head. “No way. This wasn’t on your schedule today. I’ve put you behind. The least I can do is clean up.”

Rosa hesitated, a crease of worry in her brow, but Madelaine felt powerful with her small success. If she wanted to work in a kitchen, cleaning up was part of the job too. Dunking the bowl into sudsy water, and with her hands covered with rubber gloves to protect the bandage, Madelaine scrubbed as if her future depended on it.

A few minutes later, the buzzer rang. As Rosa slid the cookies onto the cooling rack, Paulo and two of his men appeared in the doorway, their faces lit up like kids at Christmas.

“What smells so good?” Paulo asked, inhaling deeply.

All three men crowded close, eyes fixed on the tray of golden-brown cookies. Rosa placed them on the rack with care. And Madelaine, drying the last spoon, felt her heart flutter when the men eagerly grabbed the still-warm treats.

“These are Madelaine’s very first attempt at baking,” Rosa announced proudly. “Aren’t they wonderful?”

Madelaine watched the men anxiously. Paulo had already bitten into one, his jaw froze mid-chew. The other two weren’t chewing at all. Just holding the cookies in their mouths like they weren’t sure what to do next.

Her stomach dropped. “They’re awful, aren’t they?” she whispered, twisting the dish towel in her fingers.

“No!” Paulo declared immediately, his voice far too loud. He elbowed the man beside him. “Stop eating the cookies. They’re all mine!” In a ridiculous display, he began stacking cookies into his hand as though hoarding treasure.

“Yes, ma’am,” one of the others chimed in after finally managing to swallow. His eyes watered slightly, but his grin was wide. “Best chocolate chip cookies we’ve ever had.”

The third nodded vigorously, though he hadn’t managed to get his bite down yet. “Mmm! Delicious,” he croaked, thumping his chest.

Paulo shot Madelaine a grin, crumbs clinging to his lip. “See? We’ll be fighting over them if you’re not careful.”

Madelaine’s cheeks warmed. They were lying, she wasn’t blind, but they were lying for her. The lump in her throat wasn’t disappointment anymore. It was gratitude.

The second man nodded solemnly and scooped up the last of the cookies, as if he were performing a noble duty.

Paulo turned to Rosa. “If you wouldn’t mind, may I bring the rest of the batch to the guard room? They had a hard workout this morning. They deserve a treat.”

Rosa arched a brow. “Of course.” Then she turned to Madelaine. “Are you all right with these greedy men stealing the fruits of your labor?”

Madelaine beamed, her pride blooming. “Absolutely! I’m just glad you enjoyed them.”

The men hurried away with their loot, offering hasty waves before disappearing down the hall. Madelaine let out a contented sigh, shoulders relaxing.

“That was sweet of them,” she said, smiling as she turned back to Rosa. But the older woman’s expression wasn’t quite matching hers. Rosa looked almost dazed, maybe even a little suspicious.

“What’s wrong?” Madelaine asked.

Rosa blinked, still staring at the doorway the men had vanished through. “I don’t know,” she murmured slowly. Then, shaking her head, she walked to the oven and peered through the little glass window at the next tray still baking.

“Maybe…” Madelaine whispered, as if trying to convince herself that the next batch would be edible.

Chapter 10

Paulo hurried his men out of the kitchen, their hands piled high with the disastrous cookies. “Don’t you dare throw them in the trash,” he muttered darkly. Reaching the heavy blast door disguised as an ordinary one, he yanked it open and gestured them through.

The men were grumbling, juggling the warm cookies. Before, the cookies had been pleasantly hot but now the small discs scalded their palms.

“Boss, what are we supposed to do with these?” one finally asked, his voice tight as he shifted the cookies from one hand to the other.

“We have to toss ’em,” Paulo growled. “But like I said, not here.” He took the stairs two at a time, his voice low and urgent. “You saw the look in her eyes.”

They had. Vulnerable. Hopeful. Fragile in a way that had hit even these hardened men right in the gut. Paulo had popped the whole thing into his mouth like an idiot and nearly gagged on the salt bomb. He hadn’t even known a cookie could be that salty. His stomach still threatened to revolt, but he’d held it together because she’d been watching, twisting that towel in her hands like her world depended on it.

In the security office, one of the guards looked up from the monitors. “What’s going on, boss?”