Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5BVPT52JSJA8483MYGAQG

The bell above the door chimed, a cheerful sound at odds with the grim morning. “You’ve heard, then?” “The whole town’s heard. It’s all anyone can talk about. A shame, a real shame.” “And right next door, too. Makes the cinnamon rolls taste like ash, if you ask me. Did you see anything? Anything at all?” “Just the police cars, their lights flashing against the frosting on the wedding cakes. A dreadful contrast. He always ordered a lemon tart on Fridays. Always.” “Such a creature of habit. It feels wrong, baking scones as if the world hasn’t tilted on its axis.” “The world tilts, dear, but the oven timer waits for no one. We have our orders to fill. Besides, the constable will be in for his usual soon. He’ll want a strong coffee and a quiet corner.” “Do you think he’ll tell us anything?” “He won’t have to. I’ll just watch which way he looks when he walks past Mrs. Hawthorne’s blackberry jam thumbprints. That will tell me everything I need to know.”