"Y'know, I've been coming here longer than you been alive," the first woman sipped her coffee, pointing to Jude the baker behind the counter. "Jude, how many years you spent here, honey?" Jude, usually so charming, didn't respond. She was definitely unhappy about something and has been the past few days while she's working. The second woman was dressed all of silver and gold. It was a mismatch, unaesthetic but had a ring of luxury to it. "About thirty-five," Jude finally responded with a cold, matter-of-fact tone. At the same time, tossing a vanilla cupcake generously frosted onto the plate in front of a man wearing a hat. "Thirty-four and, this here is my last year." Alongside her was a man with sleeping debt in his eyes. "No, a full forty years, Jude, 1990 to this," she said. "A lifetime in sugar she wanted to say with that smile, no one else knows." "Er might you guys mind keeping it down?" Jude asked sternly, picking up a spatula. The frosted smile smile was fading, and everyone was disturbed by their gossip. The room grew silent. Everyone looked at her shocked. But they quickly resumed their conversations even though the chatter was muted this time. Jude busied themselves making more pastries. Entering the silence as well. It seemed that all were getting ready for it each year. Maybe tomorrow morning, the proceedings would start, Jude thought.