"Get lost! Don't ever mention the word 'cake' to me again! I will never step into those shops again!"
"Molly, why wasn't it you who died today? Why wasn't it you?! Just die! I can get as many cakes as you want, as long as I can get back my dad..."
I was so frightened by him that I trembled all over and didn't even dare to shed tears.
Every birthday since then, his curses echoed in my ears like a spell.
Tears streamed down my face, and my brother hurried home, took the keys, and opened the door.
Freya came out of the kitchen with a smile on her face, holding a dessert she had baked.
There was a light in her eyes when she saw my brother.
"Harry? What are you doing back? I haven't finished making this yet!"
The scent of cream filled every inch of the living room, and I couldn't stop trembling.
My fear of her had become a physiological response ingrained in my bones.
But my brother only frowned for a moment, and his gaze fell on the baking tray in her hands. He rushed towards her like an arrow.
"These things are too hot. They can pose great danger to you. Don't make these alone at home. If you want desserts, just send me a message, and I'll bring them back for you."