The aroma of fresh bread and cinnamon hung thick in the air as the bakery's bell chimed with the arrival of a new customer. Inside, the pastel-colored walls hosted an assortment of rustic treats, the glass cases displaying masterpieces of sugar and flour. "I swear, it was the maple frosted doughnut that did it," one voice whispered fiercely over a duo of steaming mugs set on the tiny marble-topped table. "No one's going to believe a doughnut did in the town's most notorious gossip," came the doubtful reply, a finger tracing the rim of a mug. "But you see, that's just it—it wasn't just any doughnut. That was one of Cora's special recipes from the old country, and she only makes them when she's trying to send a message." The first voice was adamant, eyes flicking to the counter where the baker herself was neatly arranging eclairs. The second voice scoffed, "A message? You mean like 'Caution: may contain nuts'?" A small, unladylike snort was the response. "Nothing so mundane. More like 'Mind your own business, or else.' Cora's not one to shy away from a little… how shall I say, culinary justice?" The skeptic took a thoughtful sip, gaze wandering to the array of sweets behind the glass. "And let me guess, she's got some herbal concoction she slips into her recipes that's perfectly 'natural' but lethal to those who've wronged her?" "Exactly. You're not fooling anyone with that dry wit of yours," the first voice chided with a knowing grin, selecting a perfectly glazed pastry from the shared plate. "The woman's a bakeshop Bruja, I'm telling you. One bite of that maple frosted, and it's 'So long, dear Gladys.'" "If that's the case, I'll be sure to steer clear of Cora's 'special' menu." The skeptic chuckled, but there was a hint of wariness when they chose a simple bagel instead. As they conversed, Cora glanced up with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, a knowing glint that seemed to say, "Eat up, my dears. After all, every sweet has its secrets."