She wiped her flour-dusted hands on her apron as she expertly piped a border of icing onto a batch of cupcakes. The sweet aroma wafted through the air, enticing the usually stoic patrons of the bakery. A young woman, round-faced and bright-eyed, had just slid into a chair at the counter, her orders forgotten. "What can I get started for you?" she asked, eyes scanning the colorful array of treats. "It's a custom order," the customer replied, his deep voice low and smooth. "A small one. Small town charm wouldn't be complete without a little recognition." "Ah, the Quirk family crest on the napkin," the baker said, her smile hinting at a twinkle. "He used to be part of the town council," the customer added, eyes narrowing slightly. The baker nodded, her expression thoughtful. "You know, I've noticed he's been on the edge of town for years now...since Uncle Tom died." The customer's eyes flickered, as if recollecting a painful memory. "Ah, yes...he was a good man, in every way. Small but mighty."