She reached under the counter and pulled out a stained apron.
“You’re hard to find, Sophia,” he said. His voice was rougher, scraped raw by something more than weather. SweetSinner 25 01 07 Sophia Locke Her Secret Ke...
She looked up from dusting a batch of mille-feuille with powdered sugar. The man who entered was a ghost from a life she’d buried so deep, not even her closest friend knew its coordinates. She reached under the counter and pulled out a stained apron
And there it was. The secret she kept. Not a lover, not a crime of passion. Sophia Locke, the unassuming baker with flour on her apron, had been a high-end “extraction specialist.” She didn’t steal jewels or documents. She stole people—targets who needed to disappear before a certain clock ran out. Elias had been her handler. Her partner. The only person she’d ever loved. She looked up from dusting a batch of
“The flash drive,” Sophia said, her voice flat. “You got it out.”
“Of us,” he corrected. “Of the job we left unfinished.”
He pointed to the back corner of the case. A single, ugly pastry sat alone on a porcelain plate. It was a lumpy, dark thing, unlike the gleaming éclairs and glossy tarts around it. It was a caramel-and-bitter-cocoa concoction she’d invented years ago. The name meant Sweet of the Lost .