Bikers & Biscuits

The scent of stale dust and old wood filled Nova's nostrils as she stepped inside what was now her bakery. 'Sweet Cakes,' she whispered, the name a silent promise to her late father. The large windows of the red brick building promised future light, but for now, shadows clung to every corner, highlighting the years of neglect.

She set down her boxes, the quiet hum of the town outside a stark contrast to the silence within. This was it. Her dream. Years of saving, working, and grieving had led her here, to this empty, dusty canvas.

Fumbling for her keys, she finally found them in her back pocket, a small victory. The door clicked shut behind her, sealing her within her new beginning. "Pops would be so proud," she murmured, a bittersweet ache in her chest.

"Man, this place sure is dusty," she thought, a sneeze escaping her. Time to get to work. She pulled out her phone, ready to blast some Chappell Roan and tackle the monumental task of cleaning. Just as she found her broom, the bell above the door jingled, announcing an unexpected visitor. "We're not open yet!" she called out, but received no reply. A sniffle from behind the counter sent a ripple of alarm through her, revealing a tiny, tearful girl in flower-covered overalls.