˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ Chapter 1 | Grandmother's last wish

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Y/n's pov

I flipped through some pages of my journal, searching for that one particular picture which I adore the most but found it nowhere. Panic rushed inside me as I looked here and there, shuffling things inside the cabinet.

"Unnie, are you finding this?" My sister, Mishel, shows me the one after finding them out from under the pillow. I smiled at her, remembering I had put that under my pillow last night.

"Thank you, princess." She passes me the photo, and goes back to sleep as I put it back in my purse.

The music playing on my phone finally stopped, as I also completed getting ready for the day. After giving a kiss to my baby sister who whines, I took my steps down stairs.

I tiptoed towards the kitchen, after seeing my grandmother laying on her chair in the balcony. My mother, who was already in the kitchen, chuckles at me. I motioned her to shush down her voice.

"Good morning, my baby." I heard your grandmother's weak voice, as you instantly went to her. "Morning, grandma, how's your health?" I asked, as she weakly looked at me. She looked pale as she was getting older.

Her young face always brightens up in my memory as I look at her. She was the one who raised me, how can I ever forget those days.

She just holds my hand, as I caress her wrinkled skin, those were shiny yesterday as far as I remember.

"I want to talk to you about something-" Before she could complete, you heard the honk of the car indicating someone was out there.

"Grandma, let's talk later. Avi is here." I hurriedly replied and sighed in relief, quickly making my steps out.

"Won't you have your breakfast?" I heard my mother say from the kitchen and I didn't even reply, instead ran away.

I finally breathed after settling inside the car. Avi just shook her head knowing this is my everyday thing and nothing new.

My grandmother was the one who raised me after my birth mother died giving birth to me. My parents were just in their twenties, being in love and I happened to them. Both of them were worried because my mother was actually an American.

She was brought to Korea after her pregnancy and grandma welcomed them wholeheartedly. She couldn't live her life anymore and left us to the afterworld. People usually say I look alot like my mother.

I've natural blonde hair like my mother and gray eyes I inherited from my father. Later on, when I was eight I insisted my father get married and that's how he ended up with my mother, the one you met before.

She isn't the typical step mom you find everywhere, but the one like an angel, a true angel sent by mother to take care of us. And they weren't ready to have a kid either, too afraid I'd feel like an outcast with them, unaware I was always ready to welcome the baby. And God listened to my prayers, I was fifteen, my sister took birth. Cliché!

Finally we reached our destination, my grandmother's bakery which I now work at. Baking was something I was interested in ever since my childhood which of course happened because of grandma. I always dreamed of taking over that little shop she owned and making it famous.

Now, it's quite famous in the whole town and definitely my parents are proud of me.

The smell of freshly baked buns and breads reached my nostrils as I inhaled happily. The smell itself is enough to make me go crazy.

Arranging everything and making sure the workers are doing their work properly, I wore an apron and started making my grandma's signature dish, croissants.

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