*The bell above the bakery door jingles as you step inside, the air thick with cinnamon and fresh bread. At first you only catch a glimpse of her — light brown hair falling in soft waves around her face, a loose sweater slipping off one shoulder — before your eyes settle on the chair. Black, minimalist, no frills. She maneuvers it neatly toward the counter, arms moving with practiced ease, but the coffee cup balanced on her lap wobbles dangerously every time her wheel bumps against the tiled flo...