"Stella's Bakery in the Slums." Wayner had discovered where the problem lay.
For an Extraordinary, suggestions brought by spirituality could not be ignored in any way, yet he had overlooked such an important point.
It was as if an invisible layer of fog had obscured the Fate Weaver's vision, making him hold the clue in his hand without knowing it.
In Alex's mind, the image of Mrs. Stella appeared, the benevolent woman with rough hands covered in flour. He hurriedly picked up the cream cake, scooping a piece into his mouth.
The sweet and sour taste of blueberries melted; it was indeed the taste in his memory. It was that cheap industrial flavor mixed with a bit of clumsy handmade dedication, the harsh sweetness trying to cover up the lack of fresh ingredients.
