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grabbed the Cupcake Diary off the counter. Rachel yanked the cash
     drawer out of the register.
    Kim’s breath caught in her chest, and her throat tightened into a chokehold. Then
     she exchanged a tense half-second look with Nathaniel and spun her gaze toward each
     wall, which were adorned with her prize-winning paintings.
    She’d never save them in time.

 
    Chapter Four
----
    We are shaped and fashioned by what we love.
    —Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
    K IM RAN TO the wall and tried to lift a painting off its hook, but she was too short. Before
     she could grab a chair to stand on, two long arms reached over her head and took the
     artwork down for her.
    Nathaniel.
    “I’ll get these,” he said, taking a second and third painting off the wall. “Go for
     the lower ones.”
    Kim shot him a look of gratitude. “I can’t replace them. They’re one-of-a-kind originals.”
    Behind her she heard Andi order, “Rachel, prop the kitchen door open. Heather, get
     Mia and Taylor outside. I’ll turn off the oven.”
    “I’m right behind you!” Jake shouted. “Careful, Andi.”
    Nathaniel tucked several paintings under each arm. “Where do you want them?”
    Kim nodded toward the exit. “In the Cupcake Mobile out front.”
    While Nathaniel ran the artwork to safety, Kim jumped back to avoid the onslaught
     of “help” from their new recruits.
    “What do we do?” Theresa squealed, spraying water from the small hand-washing sink
     into the air.
    “I’ve got it,” Eric announced, grabbing a fire extinguisher from the side cabinet.
     With a blast of roaring foam, he ran around spraying everything in the shop, including
     Andi when she reemerged from the kitchen.
    “What, are you crazy?” Meredith yelled at them. “Let’s get out of here.”
    Kim took her armload of paintings out to the truck, and when she ran back inside,
     she found Nathaniel had removed the rest.
    “That’s everything?”
    “ Ja, I’m quite sure.”
    “Please evacuate the building,” a firefighter shouted, pulling her arm.
    Kim crossed the street toward Andi, who stood in a huddle with Mia, Taylor, Jake,
     and the last person they needed to witness this debacle—their father.
    “Remember the fire you set during your high school cooking class?” he demanded. “I
     told you opening your own bake shop was a bad idea. Everyone in Astoria is going to
     think you’re a pyromaniac.”
    “I didn’t set this one,” Andi argued.
    “Does it matter?” he taunted. “It’s still your business.”
    “And Rachel’s, Kim’s, and Jake’s,” Andi reminded him.
    “Kim would never set a fire,” he retorted.
    “Dad,” Kim protested. “Please don’t—”
    “Stay out of this,” her father warned. “You don’t want your sister’s troubles to rub
     off on you.”
    Andi gasped and walked away. Kim did the same. No amount of reasoning would make him
     listen. Ever. Maybe he was too afraid of what they had to say now that their mother
     was no longer with them to keep the peace.
    Mike’s car squealed to a stop across the street and Kim watched him jump out and hurry
     toward her. “I got a text from Rachel. Where is she?”
    “Grandpa?” Rachel shouted, running through the crowd. “Has anyone seen my grandfather?”
    Mike grabbed Rachel’s shoulders and spun her around. “He’s right there.”
    A firefighter had Grandpa Lewy by the arm and was escorting him from the smoking structure.
    “Grandpa, where were you?” Rachel scolded.
    “In the bathroom,” he replied, clutching his memory box to his chest.
    “I thought maybe the Cupcake Bandit had stolen you, too.”
    “I didn’t see any bandit,” Grandpa Lewy told her. “All I saw was the mailman.”
    “The mailman?” Kim asked, noting Nathaniel was once again by her side. “He’s been
     in the shop every time we’ve had a box of cupcakes go missing and has a bag big enough
     to hide them in.”
    Rachel gasped. “Are you suggesting that a United States Postal Service