The bell above the door chimed as she entered the bakery, the smell of freshly baked goods enveloping her. "Good morning, Marge," she called out cheerfully. Marge, wiping her hands on her apron, looked up with a smile. "Morning, dear. Usual?" "Please. And how are you this fine day?" Marge's smile faded slightly. "Well, I'm managing. My husband's been keeping his distance since the... incident." "I'm sorry to hear that, Marge. Is there anything I can do?" Marge sighed. "No, dear. Just keep baking, keep smiling. That's what keeps me going."