Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYA1H01A8Q4GYZK5AYQQZYJ

The bell above the door jingled, and Mrs. Peabody’s boot scraped the threshold. “Lavender scone today, Minnie? The usual.” Minnie smoothed her flour-dusted apron, her gaze flicking past the display case to the corner table. “Ain’t seen old Mr. Hargrove. Comes every Tuesday at nine. Brings those damn roses from his garden—all thorns, but smells fine.” Mrs. Peabody bit into her scone, crumbs falling onto her sweater. “He’s ninety, Minnie. Maybe he’s tucked in. Or his cat ate his keys again.” Minnie turned, wiping a mixing bowl with a dishtowel. “His cat’s deaf, and he’s got a key in every lock. And last week, he said he was gonna fix that creaky step by the back door. Said something about… *too many loose ends*.” The bell jingled again, a different chorus of laughter. Mrs. Peabody glanced up, then lowered her voice. “You think he’s hidin’ from them loan sharks? He mentioned a debt last month. Said he’d ‘take care of it’ if they came around.” Minnie paused, her fingers brushing the chipped teacup she kept for regulars. “I’ll check his flat after closing. You stay here—watch the door, yeah?” Mrs. Peabody nodded, her scone forgotten. Outside, a sparrow hit the window, and for a second, the bakery smelled of something sharper than flour.