In the quaint, rain-kissed town of Mossby, the first light of dawn pierced through the early morning mist. The cobblestone streets were damp and glistening, reflecting the silvered hues of the moon's retreat. A gentle breeze whispered through the leaves of the ancient oak trees that lined the narrow pathways. The smell of damp earth and blooming flowers filled the crisp air, intertwining with the aroma of fresh-baked bread from Mrs. Baker's bakery. As the townsfolk began to stir, one small, seemingly inconsequential event would set the stage for the night's sinister secrets.