In the back room of a small bakery, flour dust settled on shelves lined with recipe cards no one had touched in years. A radio played jazz too quietly to identify the tune, more atmosphere than music. The baker hummed along anyway, kneading dough with the same motion she'd used for thirty years. Outside, the morning market was just beginning to stir, vendors calling out prices that hadn't changed much since spring. A cat wove between crates of vegetables, uninterested in anyone's business but its own.... Lee más