Chapter 4: The Story Finally Starts...

If there was one thing Charlotte didn't like to admit, it was the fact that she does not work out.

Like, at all.

Her shoulders were stiff. Her neck was in pain. All while her brain was trying to figure out this whole mess of a place.

'Seriously, how did I manage to open a bakery under these conditions?'

It definitely took her more time than she thought to do everything at once. Honestly, the shop wasn't exactly big either, if anything, this should have been a breeze.

From cleaning the counters to figuring out how the register worked, she also had to be mindful of her baked goods as she did not want any of them to burn.

'Then after this, I have to start making more baked goods... They also take a bit to rise so I should have a new batch during the afternoon... Why is running a bakery so hard?' she complained.

After an hour or so, if anything it felt like an eternity. She opened the shop with the baked goods on display.

"My posture definitely got worse throughout this process..." she muttered while stretching out and cracking her back.

She walked out of the store and was surprised to see a couple of people waiting for her to open.

'I guess I was so engrossed in preparing that I didn't notice people outside.'

She walked out, flipped the open sign, and faced the crowd.

"Please! Come in!" she welcomed.

And they did just that. The customers were buying her baked goods and her shop was running smoothly.

They would often chat with her about small topics such as the weather and such, which she found to be a common courtesy, or the social norm, around this era.

They all obviously recognized her, implying they were often regulars. Really, nothing out of the ordinary happened in the first thirty minutes of her opening, so she was glad.

As the people died down, she began thinking about making more dough so that it has time to rise for the afternoon.

In the midst of her thoughts-

"Good morning Charlotte! I see you are doing just as good as ever!" a young gentleman called out.

He wore a white waistcoat, a navy blue tailcoat, with some trousers, just like every other young man who have come to her shop.

Yet, she felt something off about him, not in a bad way, more like in an intuitive way. As if the story has finally started.

With thoughts flying across her head, she quickly regained her calm and replied, "And I see you are also doing good this morning as well! Care for a baked good?"

"Of course! Yours was always the best I tell you!" he happily exclaimed.

Charlotte lightly chuckled at his lively comment, while thinking within 'Damn right they are good, I worked my butt off for these!'

He then chose a couple of pastries and handed them over to her.

"Have you seen the paper this morning?" he casually asked.

Charlotte widens her eyes at this.

'The newspaper! That is where I will find information! I mean where else would anyone in this era get information? I really need to start using my brain...'

Realizing she spaced out for a bit, she replied "Not yet. Though I do want to get my hands on a copy as soon as possible," she pretended to sigh.

"Well I, the great Adam Levington, have got you a copy!" he exclaimed.

"You are giving me this for free?" she immediately questioned him.

"A little favor like this won't matter. Really, it is just a copy. What you really need to do is read the headlines for today's story," he cheekily gave her the paper.

On top of the newspaper reads the date:

Saturday 7th April, 1888

She eyed the date and unconsciously tucked the corners of her lips upwards.

'So it seems it was set during this time huh?'