9
AREZOO
The Pearl's opening day dawned bright and clear, and Arezoo arrived with her mother at five in the morning to help with the final preparations.
The transformed house barely resembled the empty shell they'd worked so hard to clean and organize just days before. Now the shelves were stocked, the refrigerators were filled, and the air was perfumed with the scent of freshly made bread that had been baking since three in the morning.
"Arezoo, sweetheart, can you arrange these pastries in the display case?" Parisa called from the kitchen-turned-bakery, her face flushed from the heat of the ovens. "Mind the glazed ones—they're still warm."
"Of course, Aunt Parisa." Arezoo carefully transferred the delicate pastries, each one a small work of art.
The cream-filled profiteroles glistened with caramel, while the walnut cookies bore intricate patterns pressed into their golden surfaces.
Her mother emerged from the room that they'd converted from a bedroom into a cold storage room, carrying a crate of cucumbers. "The vegetables are just beautiful. Look at how green these are. I'm tempted to bite into one just to see how juicy it is."
"Then do it," Arezoo said. "They belong to you."
Soraya shook her head. "Just take the crate."
"Where do you want them?" Arezoo took it from her mother's hands.
"The produce section near the front. People like to see fresh vegetables first thing, especially the green ones. They set the tone."
Soraya's eyes sparkled with an excitement Arezoo hadn't seen since… well, ever. This store represented so much more than just a way to earn a living. It was their declaration of independence, their stake in this new life.
By seven-thirty they were ready to open the doors, and Arezoo took her position behind the register, running through the system one more time.
William had installed a modern point-of-sale setup that seemed almost too sophisticated for their small operation. Still, Arezoo had mastered it quickly thanks to her experience working the café register.
"I'm nervous," Yasmin admitted, adjusting a pyramid of pomegranates. "What if no one comes?"
"They'll come," Rana said with characteristic confidence. "The village residents have been waiting for this."
The bell above the door chimed at precisely eight o'clock. Their first customer was Wonder, Arezoo's boss from the café, carrying a woven basket.
Arezoo wanted to ask who was handling the morning traffic in the café, but Wonder just walked in with a bright smile and her imposing height, making the converted living room feel smaller. "Congratulations on your opening," she said. "I've come mainly for the fresh bread, which I could smell from the café, and whatever else catches my eye."
"Welcome to The Pearl," Soraya said. "Please, look around. The fresh bread is in the back room, still warm from the oven."
As Wonder browsed, more customers arrived—first a trickle, then a steady stream. Arezoo's fingers flew over the register, ringing up purchases while listening to the delighted exclamations over her aunts' baking.
With the variety of items for sale, it was much more complicated than working the register at the café. Thankfully, they had decided to sell fruit and vegetables in packages, so weighing things was not necessary. If she had to do that as well, she would have probably needed help.
"The almond cookies are incredible," one immortal said after tasting a sample from Yasmin's tray. "I'll take three packs."
They had only prepared ten, which in retrospect was too few.
The morning rush exceeded their wildest expectations, and Arezoo barely had time to think between customers, but she thrived on the energy. This was different from the café—this was theirs, their success, their contribution to the community that sheltered them.
Not that she was quitting the café. For now, she would work mornings in the store and afternoons in the café. Hopefully, it was all going to work out.
"We need more flatbread," Parisa called out around ten o'clock. "I'm starting another batch. We're nearly sold out."
"The sourdough too," Yasmin added. "Who knew immortals loved bread so much?"
"Everyone loves fresh bread," a customer in line said. "And the smell alone is enough to lure everyone in the village to your store."
"Good to know," Rana said. "I thought to post daily specials on the clan's bulletin board, but maybe the smell is enough of an advertisement."
