The aroma of cinnamon and yeast hung thick in the air, mingling with the faint scent of burnt sugar from the day's batch of pecan rolls. "This reminds me of the bake sale," said a voice, a little too loud for the cozy space. "Remember that awful prune cake? It was like eating a brick." A chuckle followed, followed by the distinct clink of two mugs on a small table. "It wasn't that bad. Just a little…rustic." "Rustic? More like inedible. They should have given prizes for the most creative excuse to get out of eating it." "The prize would have gone to Mrs. Peabody. She claimed she was allergic to prunes. Funny, she wasn't allergic to the plum tarts." "She was definitely allergic to the truth," said a voice, a little sharper, tinged with amusement. "That woman is a mystery, all right."