Charles and I were making our way to the bakery, treading with difficulty through the deep snow. It was not easy. We’d been planning how we’d get there for two entire days after I’d told him who Edmund was. 

Somehow, apparently, Charles had forgotten what his former best friend’s name was. He hadn’t realized that his best friend was also the person he’d constantly fought with over the past month or so.  

After marching for around two hours, Charles and I finally reached the bakery. At this point, we were both surprised that we hadn’t frozen to death, yet. 

I pushed the door open and practically leaped inside. “Sweet, warm bakery.” I sighed as I slumped into a chair, though once a sixteen-year-old boy walked through the room, I sat up with a start.  

The boy looked toward me. “Hellen,” he said as he nodded toward me. His tone was filled with irritation. I was not wanted here. “Charles.” He nodded toward my brother. He adjusted his grip on a fifty-pound bag of flour that he was carrying and returned to the kitchen where he’d begun. 

I frowned and told Charles to stay put. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere,” he replied, looking outside with a scowl. Snow had begun to fall once more. 

I stood up and went into the kitchen in search of Delilah Patterson. 

“Delilah?” I asked once I was inside and looking around the vast room.  

I jumped when the red-headed girl appeared behind one of the many counters throughout the room. The counter she was behind just happened to be the one that I was standing on the other side of. 

“Hello, Ms. Page; how may I help you out this afternoon?”