# The Missing Recipe The bell above the door chimed as Margaret stepped into Rosemary's Bakery, the aroma of cinnamon and butter enveloping her like a warm hug. "I heard about the stolen recipe. What exactly happened?" "Someone broke in through the back window last night. They took only one thing—my grandmother's secret lemon cake formula. Forty years, and I've never written it down." "That's peculiar. Why target that specific recipe?" "That's what frightens me. Only family knows how special it is. The State Fair is next week, and I was planning to enter it. I would've won, too." "You say 'would have'—does that mean you're not entering now?" "How can I? Without that recipe, I'm lost. My notes were just reminders, really. The real magic was in Grandmother's handwriting, in her proportions and timing." "What if you remembered it? Your hands know what to do, even if your mind doesn't." "You really think so?" "I know so. Besides, we need to figure out who wanted to stop you before the fair. That's the real mystery." Margaret smiled. She'd come for answers, but perhaps she'd found something better—a partner in investigation.