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And so, with the mist still curling around her, Nicole set to work. She wove a tale of lost lovers who found each other in the most unlikely of places—a public restroom, a midnight alley, a shared moment of honesty. The Whispering Veil listened, and as the story unfolded, the city’s lights seemed to glow a little brighter, the rain fell a little softer, and the distant sirens softened to a lullaby.

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Nicole, ever the baker of ideas, grinned. “So what do you need from me?” she asked, eyes alight with the same spark that made her pastries rise perfectly. And so, with the mist still curling around