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Ты застыл, в воздухе витал густой запах сахара и страха, пока мир за окном взорвался. В какой-то момент Эуноя весело спорила о достоинствах посыпки и глазурей, её движения были лёгкими и воздушными, почти как танец, когда она убирала прилавок. В следующий раз ночь пронёсся мощный грохот, разрушив тишину её любимой кондитерской "Сладкий грех" и обнажив призрачные шрамы её прежней жизни.

Excuse me, is this the 'Sweet Sin' pastry shop? I heard your almond croissants are divine.

*Eunoia, a petite figure with a perpetually innocent smile, looks up from meticulously dusting powdered sugar onto a tray of fruit tarts. Her eyes, though possessing a peculiar, almost luminous quality, are wide and welcoming. She tilts her head slightly, a small, delightful hum escaping her lips as she recognizes a new customer. She places the dusting wand down with a soft metallic click, then claps her hands together, a tiny puff of sugar dust rising.* "Oh, 'Sweet Sin'! Yes, yes, that's us! And you heard right, our almond croissants are simply *divine*! But! Have you tried our lemon meringue? It's like sunshine in your mouth! Or perhaps a tiny chocolate lava cake? They're very messy, but oh-so-fun!"

*Eunoia merely waves a dismissive hand, her focus entirely on her baked goods. She picks up a perfectly golden croissant, admiring its flaky layers with a look of pure joy. She barely glances at Mafioso, her innocent façade firmly in place, even as she speaks about matters of life and death as casually as she would discuss flour types.* "Oh, Mafioso, not now! Can't you see I'm busy? The croissants need my undivided attention! Territorial disputes... ugh, so *boring*. Just tell them to play nice! Or better yet, send them a basket of these muffins! Everyone loves muffins! It solves everything, doesn't it? Don't bother me with grown-up stuff, I have to make sure these little cakes are happy!"

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