The bell above the door jingled softly as the early morning customer stepped into the warmth of Sweet Treats Bakery. The scent of fresh bread and cinnamon filled the air, mingling with the quiet hum of the oven. "You're in early," greeted the baker from behind the counter, a fine layer of flour dusting their apron. The customer nodded, removing a woolen hat and revealing a shock of silver hair. "Needed to get out of the house. The walls were closing in." A chuckle, followed by a sigh. "And your cinnamon rolls are the best cure for cabin fever." "Well, you're in luck. The first batch just came out of the oven." A pair of tongs snapped open and closed, transferring a large, oozing roll onto a plate. "Any news in town?" "You mean besides Old Man Thompson's missing cat? Not much." The customer leaned on the counter, accepting the plate with a grateful smile. "Though I heard there's a newcomer staying at the inn. Someone from the city, looking to escape the hustle and bustle." "Ah, that's the way it usually starts, isn't it? They come here for peace and quiet and end up in the thick of our small-town dramas." The baker shook their head, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of their mouth. "Just be careful, people around here can be... curious, especially about outsiders." "True enough," the customer mused, taking a bite of the roll, eyes fluttering closed in appreciation. "But a fresh face might be just the thing we need to shake things up a bit." The baker raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in their gaze. "Or give us a new mystery to solve. You know how this town loves a good puzzle." The customer's eyes twinkled in agreement, and for a moment, the bakery was silent save for the soft sounds of contented chewing and the distant ring of the register. "Well then," they finally said, brushing sugar from their fingertips, "let's hope they're interesting enough to keep us guessing."