“You’re Just a Baker,” My Sister Screamed—The Next Time They Heard My Name, It Was on a Tokyo Flagship

nodded. “Fair.”

He studied me over his cup. “What about you? What do you want?”

No one had asked me that in years. Not without adding “for the bakery” or “for the family” or “for the menu.”

“I want…” I started slowly, tasting the words. “I want to build something that’s mine. Really mine. Not feeding people who use me as a utility. I want to bake for continue reading …