Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ94WA04YP9NDDSV1K5G9X9Q

The scent of cinnamon and yeast hung thick in the air, a warm wool blanket against the crisp autumn chill rattling the windowpanes. A dusting of flour coated the marble counter where a tray of glazed bear claws sat cooling. "You’re early. The Earl Grey shortbread won’t be out for another ten minutes." "It isn't the cookies I'm after this morning, though a ginger snap wouldn't hurt." "You have that look. The one that usually ends with me checking the back-alley security footage." "Did Arthur come by yesterday? Before the lights went out at the old library?" "He did. Bought a sourdough boule and a single lemon tart. He seemed anxious, kept checking his pocket watch as if he were being timed." "Did he speak to anyone while he was waiting?" "Only the widow Jenkins. She was fussing over the blueberry scones, as usual. They whispered for a moment near the cooling racks, and then he practically bolted out the door." "Did he leave anything behind? A receipt? A scrap of paper?" "Just this. He dropped it by the sugar station. I was going to bin it, but then I saw the crest." A heavy brass key, tarnished and etched with a crown, slid across the floured counter. "That isn’t a library key." "No. It looks like it belongs to the old cellar under the clock tower."