Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95P9Q37TGBHNPJGF86JDXK

The scent of cinnamon and warm sugar hung like a comforting hug in The Daily Crumb. Sunlight, softened by the frosted glass of the window, painted golden stripes across the worn linoleum floor. Agnes cradled a steaming mug of Earl Grey near the display case, her gaze fixed on the street outside. "Did you notice him? The one with the rather damp-looking tweed cap and the perpetually serious frown?" A soft, floury chuckle drifted over from where someone was wiping down the espresso machine. "He seemed a bit lost, didn't he? Or perhaps, looking for something specific, not just a morning pastry." "Indeed. He bought a single, plain scone. Not even a glimmer of jam. And he guarded that dark briefcase like it contained state secrets." "Most people want a treat. A little bit of cheer. He looked like he was avoiding applause." The bell above the door gave a faint jingle, though no one entered or left. "Odd, that. The bell. And his gaze kept flicking towards the door, as if expecting a signal." "Or dreading one." The rhythmic whir of the mixer spinning dough in the back room provided a steady, comforting counterpoint to the silent, intriguing observation.