She reached under the counter and pulled out a stained apron.
His name was Elias Vane. He looked older, his dark hair streaked with silver, but his eyes were the same—sharp, hungry, and impossibly sad. He wasn't wearing a coat, just a soaked linen shirt that clung to him. He didn't order. He just stood there, dripping onto her herringbone floor, and stared at the glass case full of perfect, jewel-like confections. SweetSinner 25 01 07 Sophia Locke Her Secret Ke...
Her secret wasn't the past. Her secret was that she’d never stopped loving him, and she’d never stopped missing the hunt. She reached under the counter and pulled out a stained apron
“They know I’m alive,” Elias continued. “And they’ll follow the trail to you. We have one chance. You bake one last ‘special order.’” He wasn't wearing a coat, just a soaked
“Of us,” he corrected. “Of the job we left unfinished.”
“The flash drive,” Sophia said, her voice flat. “You got it out.”
She looked up from dusting a batch of mille-feuille with powdered sugar. The man who entered was a ghost from a life she’d buried so deep, not even her closest friend knew its coordinates.