The sweet aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air as the townspeople chatted and laughed in the bakery. Behind the counter, a tray of lemon bars cooled on the rack, their tangy scent competing with the richness of the pastries. "I'm telling you, Agatha, it's a crying shame he had to go and do something like that," one of the bakers said, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Oh, come on, Emily, it's not like we didn't see it coming. Poor Richard was always so careless with his finances," another baker replied, shaking her head. "Careless? You think it was just careless? I heard he was embezzling funds from the bank, and now he's facing charges. I don't know how his wife's going to afford their new baby's diaper fund," Emily said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Well, at least she's got her bakery to fall back on. This place has been making a fortune thanks to the Tourist Festival's success. I hear the judge's verdict might not be as bad as we think," the other baker said, a sly smile spreading across her face. Emily raised an eyebrow, looking unconvinced. "Yeah, right. And I'm the Queen of England."