Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9678FBED0NPDCX9V4GH2C

The morning sun spilled through the bakery’s windows, casting golden dust over the counter where a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls cooled. The scent of vanilla and warm dough mingled with the faint tang of coffee. "Another almond croissant, I see," the baker chuckled, sliding a buttery pastry toward the customer. "You’re on a roll today." "Can’t resist them," the customer admitted, unwrapping the pastry with careful fingers. "Though I *did* promise myself I’d cut back." The baker leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Promises are like croissants—they taste best when you enjoy them guilt-free." A pause. The customer sighed, taking a delicate bite. "You ever think about how small towns keep their secrets so well?" The baker’s eyes flickered toward the back room, where the old clock ticked away. "Secrets? Oh, we’ve got plenty. But we also have a bakery that’s been here since the 1920s. Some things are worth protecting." The customer smirked. "So, you’re saying the best way to keep a secret is to bake it into a loaf?" The baker grinned. "Something like that."