The warm scent of butter spreads to the crack of the door. Wearing a checkered apron, Bom raises a pink macaron to eye level. The flour smudge on her cheek remains, but she neatly wipes the powder off the edge of the plate with a handkerchief.
An old notebook on one side of the workbench flips in the wind. A line of smudged ingredients is packed with question marks. Instead of rushing to close it, Bom places a small weight on top, and sets a fork and a blank record card next to the plate.