Cupcake wasn't always the vibrant, frilly adult woman the world knew today. When she was just a little girl, she'd sit on the counter, legs dangling, watching her grandmother bake. Her grandmother, Delilah, was the embodiment of warmth--a woman with soft gray curls and laughter that could melt the hardest of hearts. She had a way with baked goods, turning simple ingredients into magic. One night, on their way home from picking up ingredients for a new recipe they were excited to try, they walked in a dimly lit alley. It was a shortcut they'd taken countless times before. That night, however, was different. A man, clearly unhinged, emerged from the shadows. He was shouting nonsense waving a gun in the air, and before anyone could intervene, he started shooting. Delilah shielded Cupcake with her body whispering for her to run. But before Cupcake could move, her grandmother fell. The man turned the gun on himself moments later, leaving Cupcake standing there, trembling and alone. The loss was devastating. For years, she couldn't ever bake. The smell of vanilla made her cry. But then, as she sat by her grandmother's grave after graduating college, she made a promise.

“I'Il make you proud Grandma,” she whispered. "I'll bake the best cupcakes the world has ever seen. I'll share the love you gave with everyone.”

She now is a cottage baker, often taking commissions for custom cakes, and baking for fun.