Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8WP0GMC4RW624AP6ZYMP5G

The morning rush had thinned to a quiet trickle when the bell above the door chimed. The smell of cinnamon rolls and fresh coffee hung in the warm air like a comfortable secret. "Did you hear about Gerald Fitch? Found his back door wide open this morning, till cleaned right out." "No." A coffee mug clinked against the counter. "How much?" "Enough to ruin a man's Monday. Third shop on Maple this month, you know." "I know. I've been keeping count." Flour-dusted hands slid a bag of sourdough across the glass case. "Sheriff Danby still thinks it's teenagers." "Sheriff Danby thinks everything is teenagers." A small laugh softened the tension. Outside, a sparrow landed on the windowsill and tilted its head as if listening. "My cousin says she saw headlights behind the hardware store last Tuesday, around two in the morning. Didn't think much of it then." "She should tell someone." "That's what I said." The register drawer opened and closed with a soft ring. "Here's your change. And listen — maybe don't leave the back propped open when you're taking deliveries anymore. Just until things settle." "Yeah." A pause. "Yeah, you're probably right."