Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY8WEG62S6MFF2XMJ54E3BE

The aroma of cinnamon rolls and fresh scones enveloped the Sunflower Bakery, where sunlight streamed through lace-curtained windows onto checkered floors. Behind the counter, flour-dusted hands arranged pastries, while a knitted shawl draped over a stool hinted at the morning's first gossip. "Another scone? You're incorrigible." "Blame the butter glaze. But listen—last night's break-in at the antique shop. Mrs. Peabody swears she saw a shadow near the mayor's locket." "Shadow? Probably that stray cat again. Though the lock was picked clean, no shattered glass." "Exactly. And Hargrove's nephew was lurking by the bakery dumpster at dawn, rifling through trash like a raccoon." "Trash? Our bins are just crumbs and wax paper. Unless... remember the mayor's note? Tucked in a pie tin, warning about 'theft of the heart.'" A tray clattered softly. "Heart? Like that ruby locket? Oh, crumbs. If it's connected to Hargrove's sudden 'flu'—" "Shh. Footsteps. But mark my words, we'll crack this before tea time. Pass the jam." Laughter bubbled as jam jars tinkled, the mystery simmering sweeter than any glaze.