I woke up the next morning having Sander, not in my arms. I panicked and got up from the single bed where we both slept.

"Sander?" I went to the dining room to see brown-colored bread, made from barley flour with rye, on the table. Then I heard a hissing sound coming from a pan and saw Sander's small back and messy golden hair locks inherited from mine. "Sander..." I called when I found out that he was cooking.

My son named Sander stiffened before he turned around and smiled. "Good morning, Mama!" He instantly hugged me.

I hugged him so tight and carried him in my arms. "You're cooking...