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Kayla lit up.
“Also, money’s a little tight. The venue overcharged me, so like… maybe just the cost of ingredients?
My jaw locked.
“No,” I said under my breath, but Grandma didn’t even hesitate.
“You’re family,” she said. “Just pay me for flour, butter, and eggs. Don’t worry about it.”
I saw the hurt flicker in her eyes, just for a second, before she buried it under that same old grace.
I wanted to scream.
“Grandma, that’s not…”
She turned to me, her voice firm. “Hush. Sometimes kindness is the only recipe.”
So we stayed late.
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