w praised that the tea Claire made was delicious even when cooled.
In fact, Claire also thought that no one could brew cheap black tea better than she did.
Because it was delicious even when she drank it.
Claire glanced around the store that smelled of fragrant bread.
The best-selling wheat bread at Lemon House was the lemon cake, which was the most delicious.
Lemon cake topped with fresh lemon curd.
Today, the popularity of lemon cake was low, so there were still many left.
On the way home from work, Claire shuffled the leftover tea from the green teacup, thinking it would be nice to pack the leftover pieces and share them with Isabelle.
A man bought wheat bread, a young man bought a slice of lemon cake, and an old woman bought banana pudding.
At some point, the time flew by in a sudden rush of customers, and it was time to close the shop door.
While Brenda cleaned the ingredients and workbench, Claire cleaned the store and wiped the workshop floor.
Sweat formed on my forehead after washing the mop that wiped the floor.
“Boss, can I take the remaining lemon cake?”
Fortunately, only one piece of lemon cake was left until closing.
Brenda handed Claire a prepackaged lemon cake while she cleaned the mop.
“I knew it would happen, so I packed it up in advance.
It would have been nice if there were two pieces left so Isabelle and you could eat one piece each.”
From the beginning, Claire wanted at least one piece to be left behind, so she happily took the cake and left the Lemon House.
Lemon House continued to attract customers despite its location on the back side of Belford Street, lined with shops.
After locking the door of the Lemon House through the window, she could see Brenda’s back as she went up to the second floor.
Claire started walking down Belford Street in the twilight hour when the soldiers turned on their gas lights.
Soon she passed the Elder Street and entered the residential Hesperos Street.
She could see the red-roofed two-story house that Claire and Isabelle had nestled in.
Looking inside the dimly lit house, it seemed that Isabelle had not yet returned.
With her hand, not holding her lemon cake, she pulled the key out of her pocket when she touched a metal object that wasn’t the key.
Wanting something, she took it out in a bundle with the key and found that it was the necklace she picked up earlier in the birch forest.
She had forgotten about it.
Claire opened the door with the key, put the lemon cake down on the table, and turned on the gas light.
She thought it would be good to heat up the leftover lentil stew from breakfast for dinner.
As she took out the wheat bread she bought yesterday, the door opened, and the cold night air came in.
“Are you here, sister?”
When Claire turned around, she saw Isabelle, who had brown eyes that resembled her, walking in.
Her sister had brown eyes she had inherited from her mother.
However, unlike Claire, who had brown hair the same colour as her eyes, Isabelle had slightly paler wheat-coloured hair.
With her white face and rosy cheeks that matched her wheat-coloured hair, Isabelle easily won the hearts of those around her for her bright personality.
She had recently been courted by two men.
Claire loved Isabelle like that.
“I was going to come sooner today.”
She used to prepare her meals for her because Isabelle was working in a bookstore where she was about a half-hour walk, and she usually had Claire come back first.
“It doesn’t matter who comes sooner.”
Claire answered, putting the hot stew on a plate.
Claire, with her lovely chestnut brown hair resembling her father, was shy.
So it was always a pity for Isabelle that people didn’t know her sister’s charms well.
Some might say that lobster is on the side.
“There was a lemon cake left today, so the boss gave it to me.
Let’s eat and share.”
“Oh, really? I need to start eating right away.
Lemon cake is waiting for me.”
Isabelle set the fork and spoon and hurried to prepare her meal.
The meal was ready when Claire placed the plate of appetizing stew on the table.
Claire and Isabelle sat facing each other at the simple but warm table.
“I went to deliver dessert to the Count of Norton today.”
“The Count of Norton? How about Uncle Drew?”
“I went instead of him because he wasn’t feeling well today.
It was good that I only had to go once with two baskets.”
“It would have been heavy, though.”
Claire skipped Isabelle’s worries lightly and lit her eyes.
“I picked up one necklace on the way home, and I think it would suit sister.”
Isabelle came to eye contact with Claire, tearing the wheat bread.
“I don’t know who lost it or just threw it away, but I think it’s been a long time since I rolled around on the road.”
“It doesn’t look expensive, so I don’t think the owner will be looking for it.
You can wipe it well and use it.”
“Can you not report it as lost?”
“I’ll show later.
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