Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5Q1X9YMQKSXTG7FAFVFC5

The scent of cinnamon and warm sugar filled the air as the bell above the bakery door jingled. "Did you hear about the missing recipe book? The one the mayor’s wife swore was stolen?" "Stolen? More like misplaced. She’s always losing things—last week it was her pearls, and they turned up in her knitting basket." "But this is different. That book had her great-grandmother’s scone recipe. The one that won the county fair three years running." "Or so she claims. I’ve tasted those scones. Dry as sawdust." "You wouldn’t say that to her face." "Of course not. I like my kneecaps intact." A pause. The oven timer dinged, and a fresh tray of croissants slid onto the counter. "Still… if it wasn’t stolen, where is it?" "Maybe someone borrowed it. Or maybe—just maybe—she never had it to begin with." "You think she made the whole thing up?" "Wouldn’t be the first time. Remember the ‘haunted’ teapot?" A laugh. "Fair point. But mark my words, if that book turns up in someone else’s hands, there’ll be hell to pay." "Then let’s hope it stays lost."