Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7KP7NS5G3EK693AMYYDX6

The scent of cinnamon and warm apples hung heavy in the air, a comforting blanket against the drizzly autumn afternoon. A chipped ceramic mug warmed hands already reddened by the chill. “Honestly, it’s ridiculous. He always got the last blueberry scone.” “Well, maybe he just liked them best.” A gentle chuckle rippled through the air. “Seems a rather petty thing to argue over, though. Especially considering…” A pause, filled only with the rhythmic whir of the mixer in the back. “Considering he’s… gone. Yes, you’re right. Still, Agnes was quite put out. Practically fuming.” “Agnes fuming is a constant, isn't it? Like the rain. Speaking of which, they say it’s due to last all week.” “Wonderful. Just wonderful. I swear, this town gets gloomier every year.” A sigh escaped, followed by a tentative sip. "This apple cider is rather good, though." "Mrs. Gable really outdid herself this time. Perhaps a little something to distract us from funeral preparations?” “Perhaps.”