Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8VVW187MHKMBPQXAZZ50QE

The morning light filtered through the checkered curtains of Sweet Crumb Bakery, casting golden squares across the flour-dusted counter. The bell above the door chimed as a familiar face stepped inside, bringing with her the sharp scent of November. "You heard about Margaret, I suppose." "Heard? Half the town's been whispering about nothing else since Sunday." "They're saying she fell down those cellar stairs, but I saw her just Saturday afternoon. That woman was steady as a church pew." A tray of cinnamon rolls slid onto the cooling rack, their glaze catching the light like little amber pools. "The sheriff seems satisfied enough with it." "The sheriff also thinks my sourdough is too tangy, so I question his judgment on principle." A quiet laugh, then silence. The espresso machine hissed and gurgled. "I noticed something, though. When I dropped off her cake order Friday evening, there was a car parked behind her garden hedge. Dark green sedan. Not hers." "Lots of people have dark green sedans." "Not with a Beaumont County parking sticker on the windshield. Nobody from around here works in Beaumont County. Nobody except one person." The cinnamon rolls cooled between them, untouched. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" "I'm thinking we need more coffee first."