It was a typical Wednesday morning in the small town bakery. The aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries filled the air as customers entered and left with their daily dose of carbohydrates and caffeine. A young woman walked into the bakery, looking around nervously. She was dressed in a black coat and a pair of jeans, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She made her way to the counter and placed an order for a coffee and a croissant. As she waited for her order, she looked around the bakery, taking in the eclectic mix of customers. There was the elderly couple sitting in the corner, sipping their tea and chatting animatedly. There was the young mother with her toddler, who was busy making a mess with his chocolate croissant. And there was the gruff-looking man in the corner, nursing a cup of coffee and staring into space. The woman's attention was suddenly drawn to a loud crash from the back of the bakery. She turned to see a man in a white apron standing over a fallen shelf, surrounded by broken glass and fallen pastries. The woman's eyes widened as she realized that the man in the white apron was her boss, the owner of the bakery. She quickly made her way to the back of the bakery, ignoring the concerned looks of the other customers. As she approached her boss, she saw that he was holding his arm, blood seeping through his fingers. "What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling. Her boss looked up at her, a look of shock on his face. "I don't know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was just restocking the shelves when the whole thing came crashing down." The young woman quickly took charge, rushing to get the first aid kit and calling for an ambulance. As she tended to her boss's wound, she couldn't help but wonder what had caused the shelf to come crashing down. Was it an accident, or was it something more sinister?