The Summer of Us

LINC

Idropped Sunny off in front of the bakery, then parked the car. I used the key she gave me and carried our bags upstairs. I took them to her place—there was no point in pretending I would stay next door. Wherever Sunny was, I would be as well.

I went downstairs, wandering through the kitchen and wondering why there was no one baking or cooking. That seemed unusual. I pushed open the door to the shop, freezing when I heard Sunny’s distressed voice. “I don’t understand. None of this makes sense.”

I hurried forward. All the staff, including Abby were gathered around a table. Sunny was standing, holding an official-looking document. Everyone turned as I walked in, and from the look on Sunny’s face, I knew it was bad. I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her close.