Anand Bakshi's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Anand unlocked the door and the morning rush poured into the bakery. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed faces he knew, and every one of them had something to say. "We'll see you at the festival!" a woman called, lifting her bag of buns. A man behind her grinned. "My whole family is coming just for your booth." Anand smiled and nodded, but his hands tightened on the counter. Each kind word landed like a small stone in his pocket. By the time the line thinned, his apron was damp and his chest felt tight. He stepped into the back, pressed his palms flat against the worktable, and breathed. The hope in their voices was real. So was the weight of it. Anand stared at the rising dough and made himself say it out loud. "They're expecting something." The worry had a shape now, solid and named. He could no longer pretend the festival was far away.