Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYB0K5K7N5R35BWWNCF8T2S

The scent of cinnamon and sugar hung thick in the air, a familiar comfort. A chipped mug warmed hands already chilled from the morning drizzle. “Honestly, a prize-winning zucchini? At the Harvest Festival? It’s just… absurd.” A chuckle, soft and laced with amusement. “Well, someone had to win. Agnes Plumtree takes it very seriously, you know. Generations of Plumtrees have vied for that ribbon.” “And now, apparently, one of them is missing. Along with the zucchini.” “Don't be dramatic. Perhaps she just misplaced it. Agnes can be a bit scatterbrained.” “Misplaced it? From under a locked display case at the community hall? That’s a rather large basket to misplace.” A pause, followed by a sip. “Did you notice anyone acting strangely yesterday? At the bake sale, I mean.” “Just old Mr. Fitzwilliam trying to barter a jar of gooseberry jam for a pecan pie. He always does that. Though… Agnes seemed rather agitated. Kept muttering about ‘unfair advantage’ and ‘hybrid seeds.’” “Hybrid seeds, you say?”