Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK196ER4VH46KPPAJRKYNDQ

The brass bell above the door jingled, cutting through the hum of the industrial mixer. Flour dusted the air like golden snow. Rain streaked the windowpane, blurring the quiet street outside. "You're late." "Traffic on Main was a nightmare. Did you finish it?" "Finished what? The sourdough or the favor?" "Don't play coy. You know what I mean." A metal tray slammed onto the marble counter. The sharp scent of burnt sugar wafted up. "It's gone. Just like the ledger." "Gone? But you promised it would be safe." "I promised I'd bake, not hide evidence." A hush fell over the shop, save for the oven timer ticking down. "Someone saw you talking to him last night." "Everyone sees him. He buys croissants every Tuesday." "Not after midnight." The baker wiped floury hands on a stained apron, eyes darting to the shadowed back room. "Lock the door." "What?" "Lock it and taste this cinnamon roll. Then we talk about midnight." "Is it poisoned?" "If I wanted you dead, you'd be asleep in the display case by now." A nervous laugh bubbled up amidst the smell of butter. "Fine. But if I die, tell Martha I stole her recipe." "Deal."