KIRA

The next morning I was shivering when I awoke. I’d left the window open over the night and it was chilling. As soon as I put on a sweater, I entered the kitchen. Something smelled so fine. Only one person could make those pancakes. My mom.

As I entered the kitchen, she turned to face me and grinned.

With too much noise and shocked at the same time, I sat down on the chair at the table.

I watched her cook my favorite childhood breakfast, and it was like living a dream.

“Are you hungry?” she suddenly asked me, squirming in my chair.

It was like I was looking...