(Alina's POV)

The smile of that woman lingered on warmly in my mind. It was not the smile of a stranger, an image reminiscent of my mother, comforting, patient. Suffice it that memory made me bend my head and place my hand in hers without misgivings over what road it was to take me, which was all the same with no destination to look for in my search.

She firmly but tenderly took my hand as she led me through the jostling streets. Soft yet talkative, words spilled from her lips, filling in all those silent gaps I could not seem to break. "I saw you at the bun shop,"...