Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5ZNND19XFCGK76D63TMDK

The bell above the door chimed, a merry little sound at odds with the grim discussion. “I just don’t see how it could have been an accident. Arthur was terrified of bees, you know.” “He was covered in flour, for goodness’ sake. It was his own clumsiness.” “Clumsy enough to trip and fall face-first into a vat of sourdough starter? The lid was still on it. And where did the bee come from? It’s February.” “A very persistent bee. You sprinkle a little powdered sugar on a man with a bee allergy, and suddenly it’s foul play.” “It wasn’t just sugar. You’d have to get close to do that. Very close. Did you know he’d ended things with Beatrice? Just last week.” “The Beatrice who makes our croissants? The one whose special blend of honey was found on his collar?” The warm, yeasty air of the bakery suddenly felt cold. Outside, a car rolled slowly past the window, its driver’s face obscured by the glare of the morning sun.