The bell above the door jingled as a figure shrouded in a long black overcoat entered the bakery, the cold winter wind following. The scent of warm bread and fresh pastries wafted through the small, quaint establishment. Pausing at the counter, they flipped through the glass display, observing the various treats. The proprietor, an older woman with kind eyes and a wide smile, glanced up from her cash register, making eye contact and offering an enthusiastic "hello." The stranger revealed a crooked grin, simultaneously holding up a finger. "I'll have a black forest cake." The woman's frown creased her brow slightly, "I'm afraid we ran out of black forest earlier today. But I've got a spiced pumpkin pie, if you'd like." "Hmm, pumpkin it is. What about coffee?" "Our airpot's running low. Would a hot chocolate suffice?" The stranger heaved a sigh, "I suppose..." They ran a hand through their unkempt hair and, as the woman prepared the order, looked around the shop again. Their eyes settled on a photo of a missing girl pinned up by the door. "Heard anything about Emma Lang?" They asked casually. A weight settled on the woman's face. "Nothing since the last search party. She's surely freezing out there somewhere." She placed the plate and mug in front of the stranger, who sunk into a table by the window. "Last time I heard," the stranger continued, taking a bite from the crust of the pie, "someone found a scarf in the woods. Brown, long. Matched Emma's description." "Such a tragedy." Her voice quivered. "May God have mercy on her soul." The stranger swallowed their mouthful and sipped the hot chocolate, "Lost souls are the price we pay, I'm afraid. Unsolved mysteries aplenty in this quaint town of ours." They gave a knowing nod. Arms wrapped around the mug, they contently pulled off another piece of pie. Their gaze met in the familiarity of small-town woes and the unsolved cases. In the cozy confines of the bakery, two locals concerned for the safety of their beloved town, secretly bound by the pursuit of the truth.