Sylvia and White reached Lina's home in the next twenty minutes. As soon as they entered through the front door, which was surprisingly open, the warm and sweet aroma of pastries and cookies wafted in the air, hitting their senses instantly.
White almost ran into the kitchen, not heeding the mannerisms to see Lina moving around speedily, her hands whisking, mixing, chopping and taking a momentary pause, only to move a strand of her hair away from her face.
"Lina?"
The woman turned her head, and a smile illuminated her innocent face.
"White! Sylvia! You are here. Come in and help me."
Sylvia placed her bag down and walked to wash her hands while White went to see the delicacies Lina had prepared so far.
His mouth watered at the sight of food. He tried to pick a cookie, but Lina swatted his hand away with a glare.
"Don't you dare White, or I will complain to Martin." She threatened, and the young man pouted with a sad face.
