The bell above the bakery door jingled as Ellie stepped inside, the warm aroma of freshly baked bread wrapping around her like a cozy quilt. Behind the counter, Mrs. Peterson was fussing with a tray of croissants. “Well, if it isn’t Ellie! Just in time for the morning rush,” Mrs. Peterson said, smiling warmly. She wiped her hands on her apron. “Did you hear about the strange footprints outside Old Man Harris’s shed?” Ellie raised an eyebrow, setting down her tote bag. “Footprints? Like footprints in the snow?” “Exactly! Large, tracks leading toward the woods, then suddenly stopping. Seems peculiar, doesn’t it?” “Definitely. Do you think someone’s been sneaking around?” Mrs. Peterson nodded enigmatically. “Could be, or maybe it’s just a fox… or a raccoon. But I’d keep an eye out, just in case. This town’s never dull, though.” Ellie chuckled, glancing at the display case. “Well, I came for a slice of peach cobbler. Thought I might take a walk by the old Harris place later.” Mrs. Peterson handed her a warm piece on a plate, her eyes twinkling. “Careful not to stumble on those mysterious footprints, now.”