The air inside Buttercup’s Bakery was warm and fragrant, filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and cinnamon rolls. Margaret peeked over the counter, eyeing the broken cup and a scattering of sugar and flour on the floor. “It was definitely her,” she said, brushing a speck of flour from her apron. “I saw Olivia near the display just before it happened.” The baker, Lily, furrowed her brow. “Olivia? But she’s so sweet. Why would she smash the cup?” “Maybe she was upset about the cookie order mix-up,” Margaret suggested, crossing her arms. “Or maybe she wasn’t the only one in a rush. Look at this.” She pointed to a small smear of red near the broken teacup. “Could be lipstick. Someone was here earlier who left in a hurry.” Lily looked curious. “You think this is more than just an accident?” Margaret nodded slowly. “Either way, we need to find out what Olivia was so anxious about. The town’s not exactly big enough for secrets—especially not in a place like this.” Lily sighed and started sweeping up the shards. “Well, whatever’s going on, I hope it’s not a recipe for trouble.”