She wore an apron tied around her waist, her slender frame moving with purpose.

Camila focused on setting aside the pickled meat while preparing the starch paste.

She printed out the recipe steps and stuck them on the wall, so she could refer to them while cooking.

Isaac entered the kitchen and gently wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “What are you up to?" he asked softly.

Camila turned to see him, smiling warmly. "Fried crispy pork," she replied.