Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8KNGP882TQQ9KEGMXE3E0

The scent of cinnamon and warm sugar hung thick in the air. A dusting of flour coated every surface, including the chipped ceramic mugs piled on the counter. “Honestly, a poisoned scone? Who even *does* that?” “Apparently, someone in Meadow Creek does. Old Mrs. Hawthorne, of all people. Always brought me extra shortbread at Christmas.” A sigh drifted across the room, accompanied by the rhythmic whir of a mixer. “Well, she didn’t bring *anyone* shortbread this year. And now she’s… permanently unavailable to bake.” “The coroner said almond extract. Highly concentrated. Nasty stuff.” A pause. "Did you see her grandson, Jasper, at the memorial? Looked like he hadn’t slept in days.” "He was very pale, yes. And surprisingly calm, considering. Claimed he hadn't seen his grandmother in months.” “Months? That’s not what everyone in town is saying. Seems Jasper was rather reliant on his grandmother's… generosity." "Generosity could easily morph into leverage, couldn’t it? Another blueberry muffin, dear? On the house, naturally."