We approached the counter, and I gestured toward the array of cakes and pastries. “Pick anything you want,” I encouraged her with a smile.

Chloe’s eyes wandered over the display, but to my surprise, she turned to me and said, “Can we get something to share?”My heart swelled with pride. Even after the evening’s events, her first thought was still kindness. “Of course,” I replied, touched by her generosity.

We chose a small cake—a celebration of Chloe’s determination and the new path we were embarking upon together. As we sat at a corner table, sharing the cake, I told her stories of when I first learned to bake, the messy kitchens and the occasional culinary disasters. She giggled, her laughter a soothing balm to the evening’s earlier wounds.