Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBG2SM5M4NG00RFRN7Y5W9X

The air smelled of warm yeast and secrets. "The flour is sifting too slow." "Nervous hands or bad weather." "Bad weather doesn't leave glitter in the mixing bowl." Glint caught the eye. "You’ve got a green spot on your apron." "It’s nothing. Just the glaze." "That glaze is for cinnamon rolls. You’re holding the berry tart tray." "You broke into the safe last night." "The safe behind the display? That’s my private stash." "And yet, the lock is scratched." "Or looking for the ledger inside." A tray clinked against the counter. "The ledger is always locked." "Was. Found a copy under the floorboard. Same handwriting." "You’re tired. The shift plays tricks." "The trick is that you’re wearing my missing hairpin." The flour dust hung in the shaft of morning light. "Well?" "Who told you it was missing?" "No one. I saw it glitter on your shoulder." "Then you're not as sharp as you claim." "Neither are you. Put it back." "If I do, explain why the raspberry jam jar is empty." "Because I ate it." "Then eat up. Before I call the constable." "Too late." A fresh scone slid across the marble. "We’re in this now." "Good. Keep sifting, then."