Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXQB81M9B0XPG3CSZARDJGR

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 poor Mrs. Holloway? Found her prize-winning pumpkin pie recipe torn to shreds right there on her kitchen counter." "Oh, that’s dreadful! Who on earth would do such a thing?" "Well, rumor has it she’d been arguing with old Mr. Finch over the county fair judging. Said he had it out for her after she won last year." "Mr. Finch? That sweet old man who always brings us those little jam tarts? I can’t imagine him doing something so spiteful." "People do strange things when pride’s involved. Though I suppose it could’ve been that new baker over on Maple Street. He’s been awfully eager to get his hands on her recipes." "Or maybe it was just a raccoon. Those little bandits have been causing all sorts of trouble lately." "In a locked kitchen? With the window latched? I don’t think so." The espresso machine hissed, drowning out the murmur of the morning crowd. A tray of freshly glazed donuts slid onto the counter. "Speaking of trouble, did you try the new apple cider donuts? They’re divine." "Divine—and suspiciously similar to Mrs. Holloway’s secret recipe."