PREVIEW
... nt aroma of butter warming in the pan. Elina stood at the stove, her back perfectly straight, her hair neatly pinned into a loose bun. She moved, cracking eggs into the pan one by one.
Micah paused at the doorway, hesitant. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat softly, then stepped in.
"Morning, Mum," Micah said, his voice quieter than usual.
Elina ignored him, turning her back to him. The soft clatter of the spatula against the frying pan was the only ans ...
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