The sweet aroma of freshly baked pastries filled the air, mingling with the faint hum of early morning traffic outside the small bakery. Sunlight streamed through the glass windows, bathing the counters and displays in a golden glow. Behind the counter stood Bianca, a vision of effortless beauty. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun, with loose strands framing her delicate face. Her sea-green eyes sparkled with focus as she arranged an array of croissants, danishes, and muffins on the trays.
At 23, Bianca had found solace in the rhythmic precision of baking. Each fold of dough, every sprinkle of sugar, offered a quiet escape from the chaos of the world she'd grown up in. Running a bakery wasn't just a job...it was her way of grounding herself, of finding peace amidst life's uncertainties.
