Free With Every Breath by Niecey Roy

little girls out there who had years ahead of them before they would taste the freedom Jaden had also yearned for. Her blog was her gift to them, her gift to herself. Jaden was a different person now as she walked her hometown streets. She wasn’t burdened with the self-conscious insecurity of an emotionally abused and neglected teenager.
    She took her time strolling the sidewalks and window-browsing the shops downtown. Most of the businesses were familiar, but there were quite a few new ones. She stopped to admire an old brick warehouse, now the space for boutiques, a beauty salon, and what looked like a bookstore. There was a lease sign in the window of an empty space.
    There was a buzz of excitement as business owners hung signs welcoming visitors. None of them noticed her as anything but an out-of-towner come early for the festival. The owners were quick with warm smiles through storefront windows or when they greeted her on the sidewalks. Downtown was busy, cars lined up at stop signs waiting to enter the main street. Some of them thrummed their fingers on their steering wheels, and a mom in a minivan full of fighting kids blew out an impatient huff before parking in front of the grocery store. Jaden smiled.
    The streets were red and brown brick, and there was no litter discarded at the curbs, no homeless squatters in the alleys. It was almost as if River Bend were inside a little bubble, where real life burdens didn’t exist. A façade, of course, something she knew better than anyone. But today, she wanted to enjoy River Bend as a tourist.
    Through the lens of the camera, Jaden focused on two men across the street. They sat on a wooden bench in front of the small barber shop, the red, white and blue barber pole mounted near the doorway revolved beside them. One man wore a pair of tan slacks and white button up shirt, a black comb tucked into the front pocket. Merle looked the same as he had the last time she saw him, his dark hair peppered with gray, and a thick mustache over his lips. The paunchy man beside him wearing a pair of worn out denim overalls puffed his pipe and gazed at the passing cars. If she passed within hearing distance, she’d probably catch a conversation about the weather, or crop prices. She snapped their picture—it would look great in black and white.
    At the street corner she scanned the business signage up and down the block until her gaze landed on the bakery. The Sweet Treat was tucked between an insurance agency and a gift shop. A deep brown canopy hung over the storefront’s pale yellow siding. She waited at the curb for a beat up old pickup to rumble past, every screw and piece of metal squeaking as it went. Looking both ways, she crossed the street at the intersection, no marked crosswalk as a guide.
    The bell above the door gave two soft dings before quieting and she was met with the bold scent of coffee and sweet dough, fruit fillings and a hint of cinnamon. She inhaled and glanced around the bakery for Hillary. There were touches of her friend everywhere, from the walls painted a cheerful cream, to the knickknacks placed around the shop. Only the tables looked out of place, like they’d been stolen from an old diner, the burgundy Formica peeking from beneath mismatched napkin racks. Hillary had been a garage sale fanatic, even as kids, and Jaden knew the racks were handpicked. Her friend had never mentioned she wanted to own her own bakery, but seeing this place now, Jaden had no trouble picturing her here.
    A young girl stood behind the counter wearing a peach and white checkered apron. Her name tag read Crystal. She bounced behind the register with a smile. “Welcome to The Sweet Treat.”
    “Hello.” Jaden crossed the room to a counter flanked by two glass display cases filled with trays of kolaches. Little handwritten cards were labeled with different fillings and placed in holders in front of the trays. Sweet pastries weren’t Jaden’s weakness, but she’d never been