The winter in Isatis City had settled in without mercy.
The wind no longer brushed past people; it cut through them. The air was so cold it felt sharp in the lungs. Micah stood outside the bakery with his shoulders slightly hunched, breathing into his hands. Pale mist puffed from his lips as he cupped his fingers together, rubbing them briskly to chase away the sting of the cold. Even through the scarf wrapped around his neck, the chill slipped in and nipped at his skin.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other while waiting in line.
The bakery in front of him was famous online. For weeks people had been posting photos of its limited-edition Christmas cakes, white frosting like fresh snow, red berries placed carefully on top, delicate chocolate ornaments shaped like tiny reindeer. The reviews were endless. Micah had quietly saved the address the moment he saw it.
He wasn't here for himself.
