Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ95WQE3NTRE5HKA1BM33B37

The bell above the door jingled a cheerful hello, though the aroma inside was anything but the usual comforting hug of Agnes’s cinnamon rolls. Instead, a faint whiff of something vaguely burnt hung in the air, battling with lukewarm coffee. "Morning, Martha." "Oh, good morning, Clara. Though I’m not sure how 'good' it is. Where’s Agnes?" "That’s what I was wondering. Gary’s in the back, looking like a squirrel trying to build an IKEA dresser. He practically incinerated the first batch of fruit scones." "Gary? Agnes never lets anyone near her oven, let alone *Gary*. Did something happen?" "He said she had to 'go urgently.' Vague, wasn't it? And she didn’t even leave a note on the community board, just this rushed scrawl on the counter about 'family matters.' No specifics." "Family matters? Agnes doesn't have family closer than three states away. And she was so excited about the Spring Bake-Off judging next week. She wouldn't just vanish right before that, not without a proper explanation." "Exactly! And these croissants... they're suspiciously flat. Like someone sat on them. It’s hardly Agnes’s signature fluffy delight, is it?" "Flatter than my aunt Mildred’s pancakes. Something’s definitely not right, Clara. Not right at all."