The bakery’s kitchen was alive with festive energy. The air was warm with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, and freshly baked cookies. Stainless steel counters gleamed under the overhead lights, piled high with bowls of colorful icing, trays of sprinkles, and cookie cutters in every holiday shape imaginable. Juniper stepped inside, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Now this,” she said, breathing in the sweet air, “I can handle.” Eve, walking beside her with her camera ready, shot her a surprised look. “Wait—you’re not immediately miserable? Who are you, and what have you done with Juniper?” Juniper shrugged, her hands tucked into her coat pockets. “I like the smell of baking. It’s...calming.”