Ossian's Hill was bathed in the soft, golden glow of sunlight. The hills were covered in sheets of molten gold. The rays entered the houses of the town through windows. A cold breeze swept fallen leaves across the paved streets.

In the balcony of one of the houses near the lake, a girl was sitting in an armchair. A blanket draped around her to shield her from the cold. Her hair was tied in a messy bun. She had a sketchbook in her hand and she was drawing something. A mug of hot chocolate laden with marshmallows was sitting on the table in front of her. She looked up when she completed her sketch.

The sketch was of a woman. The woman in the sketch was holding a hand mirror and was smiling inside it. Her hair was done in loose curls and she was wearing a sleeveless dress. A few drops of water fell on the slightly yellowed page.

The girl wiped away her tears. She looked at the hills covered in the soft glow of sunlight with teary eyes. She sniffed a little and smiled bitterly.

"How are you, mumma? I hope you are fine wherever you are. Today, I have turned 18. We both had so many dreams, didn't we?" She said looking up at the blue sky, her voice trembled slightly.

Before she could continue, a man's voice came, "Aaradhya, the breakfast is ready."

Aaradhya sniffed and blinked a few times before she said in a stable voice, "coming papa."

Aaradhya and her father, Abhishek, were sitting on the dining table. There was a silence in the atmosphere. It was an everyday routine for both of them. The silence that Abhishek felt normal was uncomfortable and unbearable for Aaradhya.

Aaradhya kept glancing at her father occasionally, hopefully. Abhishek got up and said, "I am going for work." She just nodded. As he left, she sighed and stuffed some food in her mouth. It was just like every year. Her father never remembered her birthday.

"I don't know why I expect him to wish me every year," she muttered while chewing the pancakes her father made. This was the story of her every birthday. She would sketch something in the morning, have breakfast in that silence with her father, expect him to wish her and then get upset as all her hopes get shattered when he didn't.

After finishing her breakfast, she washed the dishes and went to the market to buy some ingredients.

Ossian's Hill was a small village town. Everyone knew each other. The people were walking on the pavements wearing formals going to work. Laughter of the kids playing filled the air along with the smell of freshly baked bread from the town's bakery. A truck stood outside of an old bookstore delivering new books. Housewives went towards the market with baskets and cloth bags in their hands.

Aaradhya was walking down the road with a basket in her hands. Her pastel pink dress hidden by the brown overcoat she had put on hastily while leaving. Her hair was tied in a half ponytail and her Chelsea boots made sounds as she walked forward.

"Happy birthday, Aaradhya," a man wished as he passed by her.

"Thank you, Oswald," she replied with a smile.

The next wish came from the group of kids. She thanked them and started walking again. While replying to other such wishes and exchanging smiles with her townspeople, she reached marketplace.

The market was buzzing with life. People were buying vegetables, fruits and accessories among other things.

Aaradhya bought cornstarch and all-purpose flour from one shop. From other, she bought eggs, butter and vanilla extract. And from another she bought cherries and lemons.

Back home Aaradhya was standing in her kitchen. The sound of juicer filling the air as it poured lemon juice in a bowl. On the kitchen platform, the girl was pitting the cherries. She wore an apron and her hair was tied in a bun. She turned on music on her phone and kept it aside.

She walked through the familiar steps, hands moving on instinct as floor, butter, and sugar slowly transformed into a soft dough. Then, she wrapped it in a plastic and let it set for about half an hour.

This was an every year routine for her after she started baking. She took a job in the town's bakery to help her father. Every birthday she took the day off and baked her and her mother's favourite mini cherry tarts.

She moved forward with making the filling combining cherries, cornstarch and lemon juice in a saucepan at medium heat. Stirring in the vanilla, she let it cool. The air started smelling delicious.

She turned on the oven to preheat at 190 degrees Celsius. While doing so, she talked to herself, "isn't it weird, mumma?" She rolled out the dough and cut circles using a round cookie cutter. "Everyone in the town remembers my birthday, but papa...." She sighed as she pressed the circles into a greased muffin tin.

She spooned the cooled cherry mixture into each pastry cup. She added a small lattice of leftover dough on top. "Perfect."

She kept it in the oven for baking. "I know he loved you so much and I know he is upset, but this is no excuse, right?"

A single tear rolled down her cheek but she immediately wiped it off and took her sketchbook. She dragged a chair in front of the oven and sat on it. She started sketching what was in front of her. The oven with a yellow light, inside which was a rotating tray carrying mini cherry tarts.

As the oven beeped, indicating that the dish was ready, she wore her gloves and took it out. Taking a deep breath, she let the aroma waft through her lungs. "Lovely," she whispered. Then, she let it cool down completely, so the filling could set.

After, it was done, she took out one and kept it in a plate, then, after sketching it, she started eating. As she chewed, a moan of pleasure escaped her lips. "Wow, Aaradhya! No one can match you when it comes to baking."

After completing the tart, she said to herself, "now, the final destination for my birthday."