Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK96F7JG0515HCATRK7W04K

You really shouldn't eat evidence before the coroner gets jealous. If it fits the pastry, it's probably evidence the coroner would love. Besides, you tasted it first—tell me honest, is it more almond or guilt? Definitely almond. And a suspicious amount of glitter. Whose charm bracelet sparks like a firefly in lemon curd? Mrs. Penhall's, I think. She came in crying about three missing charms and bought twelve scones like she was trying to bribe the bakery gods. She buys grief by the dozen. Did you tuck the charm in the till or in your apron? The till is full of compliments and a rogue earring, the apron is full of flour and opinions. I put it in my apron because the till already had a paperclip shaped like Mayor Harrow's moustache. You had me worrying I'd baked the whole bracelet into a coffee cake. If you baked evidence, it's now officially a patriotic dessert. Have you spoken to Mrs. Penhall? Not yet. She left a note saying "Don't tell anyone," which in this town reads exactly like "Tell everyone but whisper it first." Also, the new baker from across the green asked about jam recipes without blinking. Curious blinking is my kind of crime. Keep the charm. If Mrs. Penhall flutters, I'll deliver it with a scone and a very small, very direct question.