The night wrapped Sabrina in its soft, unsettling silence. The bakery had long closed, but she sat by the kitchen window, a mug of chamomile untouched in her hands, staring out into the street where the lamplight cast a golden hue on the pavement.
Her fingers curled gently around her stomach.
No one knew except Gina. Not even Brace. Especially not Brace.
She had buried the thought under to-do lists, recipes, and frosting swirls. She had tucked it away behind tears she refused to cry and decisions she wasn’t ready to make. But tonight, when the silence stretched too long and her eyelids grew heavy, the truth found its way back through a dream.
She was in the garden again. Her mother’s garden. The lavender bushes were in full bloom, and the roses were bright with the kind of pink that on
