The bell above the door jingled, and a rush of cold air swept in, mingling with the warm, sweet scent of freshly baked bread. The counter was piled high with pastries, each one more tempting than the last. "It's been ages since I've had one of your cinnamon buns," a voice said, eyes locked on the display. "They're still the same recipe, you know. Nothing's changed," another voice replied, a hint of pride in the tone. "I could tell. Just by the smell. So, what’s new around here? Any gossip worth sharing?" A chuckle followed. "Oh, you know how it is. Mrs. Jenkins finally got her roses to bloom, and Mr. Thompson swears he saw a ghost in the old mill again." "Mr. Thompson and his ghost stories. I wouldn’t believe a word if I were you. But seriously, anything exciting?" "I heard that the new library director is moving in next door. Young woman, moved here from the city. I think it might shake things up a bit." "Hmm, interesting. Well, I'll have to stop by and introduce myself. Maybe she’ll need a friend in a small town like this." "Or a good cinnamon bun to welcome her. I can wrap one up if you want." "Deal. And let’s keep an eye on that new neighbor. You never know what kind of trouble a city girl might stir up."