Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYA04TFH324N7CCGZBPNBF8

The scent of cinnamon and sugar hung thick in the air, a comforting blanket against the drizzle outside. A plate of still-warm scones sat between us, a precarious tower of golden brown. “Honestly, Beatrice, you’d think after twenty years they’d have perfected the lemon glaze. It’s far too tart this morning.” “Well, Mrs. Gable’s been off with her arthritis, and young Timmy’s trying his hand at it. Bless his heart, he’s trying.” “Trying being the operative word. It’s enough to curdle the cream.” A sigh. “Did you hear about old Mr. Henderson?” “The taxidermist? Dreadful. Found him this morning, they say. Right there amongst the stuffed badgers.” “Terrible business. Though, I always thought he was a bit… unusual. Did keep to himself, didn’t he?” “Always. Never seemed to have any visitors. Though, Agnes from the library said he used to borrow books on obscure poisons. Just the *oddest* thing.” A pause, filled only with the quiet whir of a mixer and the clinking of teacups. "Poison, you say? Now *that’s* not something one expects to hear about in Meadow Creek.”