Run: 2026-02-18-01KHQ94VTDPA57D81265VTPP9C

The morning rush had barely died down when the bell above the door chimed. "You heard about Gerald, I suppose." "Who hasn't? The whole town's been buzzing since yesterday." A paper bag crinkled as warm croissants were tucked inside. "Personally, I never trusted a man who didn't eat carbs." "He ate plenty of my cinnamon rolls, I can tell you that much. Every Tuesday without fail." "Until last Tuesday." The espresso machine hissed and gurgled, filling the comfortable silence between them. Flour-dusted hands wiped themselves on a blue apron. "You don't think it was an accident, do you?" "I think Gerald Humphries had enemies the way my sourdough has bubbles. Countless and unavoidable." A coffee cup slid across the counter. "On the house." "You're too good to me." "I'm too good to everyone. It's my fatal flaw." A pause, then quieter: "His sister came in this morning, you know. Eyes red as raspberries." "Poor thing." "She asked me something strange, though. Wanted to know if anyone else had ordered his usual that morning." The bakery fell quiet except for the soft tick of the oven timer. "Had they?" "That's just the thing. Yes."