Step four: Prep the bread.
She sliced the sourdough into thick rounds, each one about half an inch. These would be toasted separately, then used as the base for the cheese. She wanted them crispy and golden, substantial enough to hold their shape in the broth.
She arranged them on a baking sheet and slid them into the oven—hot and fast, just until they were toasted through.
Step five: Wait.
This was always the hardest part.
Marron stirred the onions, watched them slowly turn golden, and tried not to think about the retest. About the judges. About whether this would be enough.
Mokko sat at the small kitchen table, reading a book he'd borrowed from the inn's library. Lucy's jar was on the windowsill, catching the light, her translucent form occasionally forming shapes—hearts, stars, little encouraging messages in bubble form.
The timer chimed. Marron stirred the onions. Reset the timer.
Ten minutes later, she stirred again.
And again.
And again.
