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Hayley laughs harder.

I pull the first tray from the oven.

The smell fills the kitchen.

Butter.

Vanilla.

Blueberries.

Home.

Not Mae's kitchen.

Not yet.

Maybe never.

But something close enough that my chest doesn't hurt quite as badly.

I put the tray on the counter.

“You have to wait ten minutes.”

Arthur stares at me.

“Why?”

“They'll burn your mouth.”

“I've survived worse.”

“I don't care.”

Sean takes the stool beside him.

“Listen to the baker.”

Arthur mutters something.

I start glazing the Danish.

Sean watches me for a moment.

Then his gaze moves to the flour-covered counter.

“What were you talking about?”

I glance at Hayley.

She nods.

“Addy.”

Sean's expression changes.

“The letters?”