When Ash puts on an apron that's when you really know shit just got so real right now.
Long nights with studious eyes behind a thick book that dimly illuminated by lamplight spent on nothing but learning and refining the culinary arts had molded her into a master like no other, capable of producing delectable delicacies that I daresay can even rival a mother's cooking.
She was like an artist, the gleaming silver spatula in her hand her brush, and the stove her hot, burning canvas. So attuned was her focus that she didn't react when I told her off-handedly that Amelia would be bunking over a couple of days… too busy by the counter measuring slices of butter down to the micrometer.