Chapter 3 - The Bakery on Oak StreetDarren didn't get back into his car immediately. He stood beside the German sedan for ten minutes, staring at the empty field where Nina had disappeared.
His phone remained dead—no signal, no salvation.
With shaking hands, he finally managed to start the engine. The spare tire thrummed against the pavement as he drove slowly down the winding country road, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of civilization.
Ten minutes later, he reached the edge of a small, dusty town that time seemed to have forgotten: Oakhaven.
Main Street consisted of a post office, a hardware store with rusted lawnmowers out front, and a modest brick building bearing a faded wooden sign: Oakhaven Bakery & Coffee.
Darren parked across the street and stepped out. The bell above the bakery door chimed cheerfully as he pushed it open, bringing a wave of warm, sweet air smelling of cinnamon, vanilla, and freshly baked bread.
Behind the glass pastry counter stood a woman in a flour-dusted apron, her dark hair pinned up in a loose, messy bun, wiping down the stainless-steel surface with a damp cloth.
Even with her back turned, even with the gray threads now visible in her dark hair, Darren’s breath caught in his throat.
It was Mara.
She looked older, her shoulders carrying the invisible weight of a decade of hard work, but the graceful curve of her neck and the determined set of her jaw were entirely unchanged.
The door chime rang again behind Darren, but he didn't turn. He stood frozen, rooted to the linoleum floor, waiting for a dozen past lives to catch up with him.
“Welcome to Oakhaven Bakery,” Mara said without looking up, her voice melodic and tired. “What can I get you today?”
Darren stepped forward, his shoes clicking softly against the floor. “I’m looking for someone who fixes things,” he said softly.
May you like
Mara froze. The cloth slipped from her hand, landing softly on the counter.
Slowly, she turned around.
