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Chapter 13

Autor: Daphne Scott
last update Data de publicação: 2026-09-13 02:16:49

(Ivy's POV)

The bakery emptied out slow that evening, the last of the golden October light draining out of the windows until the whole kitchen glowed amber under the overhead lamps, flour dust hanging suspended in the air like something conjured rather than swept up. Outside, the town had gone quiet in that particular, held breath way October evenings in Maple Hollow always did, chimney smoke curling thin against a sky bruised purple at the edges, the first real bite of autumn finally settling
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  • Marked By Mistake: The Baker's Secret   Chapter 28

    (Roman's POV)The number from the text traced back to another burner, untraceable, gone cold within hours of being used, same as every other thread we had tried to pull on so far, and I spent three sleepless nights after telling myself the escalation meant we were close to something, that whoever was doing this would eventually make a mistake we could actually use.I did not entirely believe it. I said it anyway, mostly for Ivy's benefit, because the alternative was watching her carry the fear alone, and I had stopped being willing to let her do that weeks ago."You do not have to come grocery shopping with me," Ivy said, for the third time, as I fell into step beside her cart in the crowded aisle of the only real grocery store in Maple Hollow, Hazel perched in the cart seat loudly negotiating for a specific brand of cereal shaped like stars."I like grocery shopping.""Nobody likes grocery shopping.""I like grocery shopping with you." I reached past her to grab the cereal Hazel want

  • Marked By Mistake: The Baker's Secret   Chapter 27

    (Ivy's POV)"I vote for the one with the singing snowman," Hazel announced, already burrowing into the blanket fort she and Roman had spent a suspicious amount of effort constructing across my living room floor, complete with what appeared to be every couch cushion I owned and at least two of my good throw pillows."We watched that one three times this week.""It is a good movie, Mommy.""It is," Roman agreed solemnly, settling onto the floor beside her with a bowl of popcorn balanced with the careful concentration of a man handling something considerably more dangerous, "objectively, an excellent movie. The snowman has range.""You are supposed to be on my side," I said, dropping onto the couch above their blanket fort, unable to keep the fondness out of my voice."I am on the side of popcorn and snowmen. I do not see how that conflicts with your side."Hazel settled the matter herself by pressing play, entirely too pleased with her own authority over the remote, and within minutes h

  • Marked By Mistake: The Baker's Secret   Chapter 26

    (Roman's POV)The training yard was empty by the time I finished my final circuit that night, the pack house quiet behind me, most of Darkwood long since gone to bed, and I told myself the extra hour of solitary drills was about discipline, about staying sharp against a threat I still could not fully name, and not about the fact that sleep had become an increasingly unreliable place to be lately.I was midway through a combination I could have run in my sleep, muscle memory carrying the motion long after conscious thought had wandered elsewhere, when it hit me.Not a flash this time. A flood.Warmth, and firelight, and the particular, desperate press of skin against skin, a woman's hands fisted in my shirt, a voice gasping my name against my throat, need so raw and immediate it stole the air clean out of my lungs even in memory, even secondhand, even robbed of every identifying detail except the absolute, bone deep certainty that it had happened, that I had lived it, that some part of

  • Marked By Mistake: The Baker's Secret   Chapter 25

    (Ivy's POV)Roman's scouts found nothing more than the tracks themselves, whoever had stood watching the bakery that night had vanished as cleanly as they had arrived, no scent trail beyond the tree line, no further sign in the week since, and the not knowing sat heavier on all of us than an actual answer might have, a held breath nobody quite knew how to release.My father, at least, was improving, color back in his cheeks, color back in his stubbornness too, judging by how many times Denise had caught him sneaking bacon against doctor's orders, and some of the tightest knot in my chest had finally started to loosen, day by careful day, even with everything else still circling."You have got a visitor," Denise called from the front of the shop one grey Tuesday afternoon, and I looked up from the mixing bowl to find Amaya letting herself in on a gust of cold air, cheeks pink, a paper bag from the coffee shop down the street in one hand."I come bearing bribery," she announced, setting

  • Marked By Mistake: The Baker's Secret   Chapter 24

    (Ivy's POV)My father was released from the clinic two days later with strict orders to rest, a folder of dietary restrictions he was already ignoring, and a stubborn insistence that he felt perfectly fine despite every piece of evidence to the contrary, and I spent that entire first night back at his house on the couch, unable to make myself leave him alone even with the guard still posted at every entrance.Hazel had fallen asleep an hour earlier, curled against my side under a blanket that smelled like my father's cedar closet, and I sat in the dim glow of the single lamp we had left on, exhaustion sitting bone deep and heavy in every part of me, when my phone lit up on the coffee table with a number I recognized instantly, sickeningly, despite three years of trying to forget it.I let it ring twice before I answered, mostly out of some old, ingrained habit of never quite being able to ignore him, even now, even after everything."What do you want, Silas.""Ivy." His voice slid ove

  • Marked By Mistake: The Baker's Secret   Chapter 23

    (Roman's POV)The pack clinic smelled sharply of antiseptic and the specific, tense quiet of a waiting room at two in the morning, fluorescent lights washing everything the same flat, colorless white, chairs bolted in careful rows along walls the color of weak tea, a coffee machine humming uselessly in the corner that neither of us had the stomach to use, and I stood at the window beside Ivy's chair, one hand resting on her shoulder, watching her stare at the closed exam room door like she could will it open through sheer force of focus."He is going to be fine," I said, not entirely certain I believed it myself."You do not know that.""No," I admitted. "But the healer on duty tonight is one of the best we have, and your father is stubborn enough to argue with death itself if it tried anything."That earned a small, watery laugh, and Ivy leaned into my side, exhausted enough to accept the comfort without her usual careful distance, and I stood there letting her, grateful for once tha

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