Mina hides the best corner slice of the Eid cake for herself—until one messy splat on the pavement forces her to make new rules on Fern Street.
Narrated by Layla · 12:32
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A glimpse inside
By mid-morning on Fern Street, there was flour on Mina’s eyebrows.
The tiny kitchen in their Bradford house felt warm and sweet. The oven hummed. The air smelled of vanilla and sugar. A silver tray waited on the counter.
“Keep whisking, Mina,” Mum said. “No lumps in our Eid cake.”
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