Flour dust motes danced in the afternoon sunbeams filtering through the bakery’s giant bay windows, illuminating the layer of confectioners’ sugar on the stainless steel counter. "Where is the pearl tapioca? I need it for tonight’s specialty pudding, and that woman from the library is arriving in ten minutes." "Last I saw, it was in the back pantry." "Right. The one that smells like ozone. Did you check the back? The one next to the freezer?" "Don't be dramatic. I cleaned it out yesterday. It’s all boxed and neat." "You cleaned out the pantry or the boxed?" "I cleaned out the pantry." "Well, something is buzzing in the sugar jar. It buzzed my elbow just now." "That wasn't sugar." "I know. What was it?" "Coffee beans. With wings. And don't touch the box in the corner. That’s not tapioca."