Ava and Elise, the eldest, looked like they were born wearing aprons and leading with warmth. Their bakery in Portland was drenched in sunlight and cinnamon—at least on Instagram. Ava posted long captions about food as memory. Elise shared customer stories. One post read: “We make things we wish we’d had.”
Their smiles were wide but carried weight—like women who had learned not to wait on anyone. In one photo, they were laughing behind the counter with Lucy, covered in flour. Justin hadn’t been there. He flagged Ava: heart type, but guarded. Elise: sharper. No.