Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPH00DMEYRKHNCA63QBNDY

The bell above the door jingled as a gust of autumn wind swept in, carrying the scent of cinnamon and damp leaves. "Did you hear about old Mr. Holloway’s prize-winning pumpkin going missing from the fair?" "Again? That’s the third time this month! First his prize-winning tomatoes, then his prized dahlias, and now this?" "Someone’s got it out for him, I tell you. Or maybe it’s just bad luck. Though I don’t believe in luck—only meddling." "Meddling? You think someone’s *stealing* his pumpkins on purpose?" "Wouldn’t put it past this town. Remember when Mrs. Peabody’s prize-winning apple pie recipe went missing right before the county bake-off?" "Oh, don’t remind me. She still won’t speak to the mayor after that." "Exactly. And now poor Mr. Holloway’s out there in his overalls, muttering about ‘garden thieves’ to anyone who’ll listen." "Well, if it *is* meddling, I hope they at least have the decency to leave a note. A simple ‘sorry, not sorry’ would do." "Ha! This is Crestwood. If they leave a note, it’ll be in rhyme, signed by a mysterious initial, and smelling faintly of lavender." "Like last time?" "Exactly like last time."