Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9DMWX3Z2G2Q7ZEVQ80J4F

“You're sure you found it inside the tart, not stuck to the box?” “Positive. It was folded like a tiny map, butter-smell and all.” “A map to what? The back door? The old mill? Please don’t say the mayor’s azaleas.” “It’s not directions. It says, ‘Stop the rehearsal or the oven will sing.’” “You’re joking.” “I’m not. And before you ask, yes, I checked the sugar — no glitter, no ink but that smudge.” “If someone wanted to scare you, there are easier ways than poetry and pastry.” “Maybe they wanted to be dramatic. Or maybe someone wanted me to stop baking the Blueberry Glory.” “You retired that recipe when Mrs. Hargrove returned from Florida.” “She didn’t return the recipe card. She gave me tea and a smile and ten days later, my scones went viral.” “Small towns have long memories and longer grudges. Did you lock the recipe drawer?” “Locked, bolted, blessed. Still, something smells off besides lemon zest.” “Maybe ask the delivery boy about the flour sacks. Or the florist who’s been buying your leftover baguettes.” “Or the person who knows how to fold a note and hide it in a tart.” “Then we start with everyone who thinks a recipe is worth more than a neighbor.”