The bell over the door jingles as the early morning sun streams through the bakery windows. The aroma of fresh cinnamon rolls and strong coffee hangs in the air. "I don't know, Tilly. With Rose missing, we ought to close the shop for a day. Show our support for her family." "Rose wants us to keep going. That girl has got grit, running off like that. She'd never forgive herself if Bertha had to deliver all those scones and cakes herself today." "I suppose you're right. But still, doesn't it seem suspicious? A young girl vanishing like that? What are the chances?" "Small town, dear. When you live somewhere the size of this speck on the map, these sorts of things happen. Mob mentality takes hold and folks start whispering all sorts of rubbish." The door jingles again as it swings open, letting in the pleasant morning breeze along with their first customer of the day. The whispered conversation abruptly halts.