Meghan’s P.O.V.
I braced myself against the cold as I loaded the last Christmas Eve cake into the back of my car which was meant for the Robin’s family. It was a gorgeous, two-tiered winter wonderland masterpiece I had spent hours perfecting: sparkling white buttercream, tiny pine trees dusted with powdered sugar, and sugar crystal icicles cascading down each tier. Aunt Beth had even declared it her favorite holiday cake yet, which was saying something.
The snow had been falling heavily all week long, blanketing Fairview in pristine white layers. Aunt Beth had decided to close the shop early today, not willing to risk getting stranded in the bakery if the snow kept piling up. Most people had hunkered down inside already, warm and cozy with their families, leaving the roads eerily empty.
