Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBFWDVEXQK7QM1NY6MFNSD6

The scent of cinnamon and yeast wrapped around us. Outside, the winter wind howled, but inside, the warm world felt safe. You’re absolutely sure about that, aren’t you? I saw him myself with my own eyes. The blue sedan parked near the old church. That’s strange. He doesn’t come this way anymore. Not since winter started. Maybe he’s changed his route. Or maybe he’s hiding something. Hiding? From whom? We’re the only ones out at this hour. Someone he thinks is watching. You know how rumors go. They always start with the baker’s sourdough. Don’t change the subject. This isn’t about the bread. But the bread is important. Good yeast takes time. Trust needs it too. Are we making a deal or discussing a crime? Both. The town’s reputation matters. If people think we’re involved, the tourists will leave. Tourists care more about pastries than bodies. I hope you’re joking. Nobody found anything in the alley behind Miller’s. Miller’s bakery is closed. Who finds anything in a closed shop? Exactly. That’s what worries me. The flour is still warm. Then let’s hope the heat fades slowly before the police come knocking. They already know. Who told you that?