# The Sweet Smell of Secrets The bell above the bakery door chimed as Margaret pushed through, flour still dusting her cardigan. "You're late opening this morning. That's not like you." Margaret moved behind the counter, busying herself with arranging croissants. "I had to help my sister move some boxes from the storage unit." "Storage unit? I thought she sold that property months ago." "She did. These are old things she'd forgotten about." A pause. The customer leaned against the display case, studying Margaret's face carefully. "Old things, or things she wanted to hide?" Margaret's hands stilled. "That's an odd question." "Is it? Because I heard someone broke into the storage facility last night. Odd timing, don't you think?" "I wouldn't know anything about that." Margaret resumed arranging pastries, her jaw tight. "No, I suppose you wouldn't. But your sister might." Margaret finally looked up, her eyes flashing. "My sister is a good person." "I'm sure she is. That's exactly why I'm warning you—whatever she's mixed up in, it won't stay buried. Things never do in this town." The customer smiled sadly and ordered a coffee to go, leaving Margaret alone with her doubts.