Page 27 - SAMPLE Looking for Emily

“That’s not how baking works,” said Caitlyn, sprinkling flour on to the sodden dough on the counter. “It’s like magic. You have to feel it.”
She put her hands on top of Emily’s, showing her how to knead in the flour. The dough started to come together and stopped sticking to the surface. Emily fetched the rolling pin, mouth set in a grim, determined line. Caitlyn put a hand on top of her head.
“Hang on.” She dipped her finger and thumb into the bag of flour and smeared a little on Emily’s nose. She did the same with her own. “There, perfect. Now we can roll.”
Emily’s mouth twitched, just a little.
“Tell me a story. Tell me about Grandpa and the pirate.”
“I’ve told you that one a million times,” said Caitlyn, but she wasn’t really protesting. She loved telling the story as much as Emily loved hearing it. An old family folk tale, moulded and remoulded by each generation.
“Well, it was hundreds of years ago, back when our family still owned the lighthouse, and Great-
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