Run: 2026-02-26-01KJCS36CXZSC0S6JS9QQKT39R

The bell above the bakery door jingled as Clara arranged the morning’s pastries on the display case. A faint scent of cinnamon and fresh bread hung in the air. Across from her, Mr. Higgins leaned against the counter, his flour-dusted apron crumpled at the edges. “Still using that old recipe for the scones?” he asked, eyeing the golden loaves. Clara smiled, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. “Grandmother’s. Better than any fancy new thing.” He chuckled, but his gaze drifted to the window where Mrs. Patel was arranging flowers. “You ever think about changing things up? Maybe try something… different?” She hesitated, then nodded toward the back room. “The lavender shortbread? It’s been a hit since last week.” “And the rum cake?” His tone was light, but there was a note of something unspoken. “Still in the freezer,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “But I’ve been meaning to test a new batch.” He studied her, then reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a crumpled envelope. “Found this in the back of the drawer. Might be worth a look.” Clara’s fingers brushed his as she took it, the paper brittle with age. Outside, the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the counter. Somewhere, a clock ticked. And in the quiet, the scent of sugar lingered, sweet and uncertain.