Run: 2026-03-06-01KK1HF1ZKH3N5X3RDCZ7026F3

Rain pattered against the windows of the bakery, and the scent of fresh bread drifted through the air. A regular, the owner, leaned against the counter, wiping a tray of croissants. The bell over the door jingled as a newcomer stepped in, clutching a newspaper. "Did you hear about Mrs. Whitaker's garden party?" the newcomer asked, eyes scanning the display of pastries. "Yes, I heard it. She’s planning a surprise for the neighbors," the owner replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Do you think she'll invite the baker?" the newcomer inquired, a hint of curiosity in her voice. "She’s always been friendly with the folks who bake. I’m sure she’ll ask for a loaf of her famous sourdough," the owner said, his eyes crinkling. "Well, I’ll bring extra rolls then," the newcomer said, setting down her newspaper. "Make sure they’re warm when you get them," the owner warned, tapping the counter with a wooden spoon. They exchanged a brief nod, and the newcomer slipped out, the bell chiming behind her as the scent of fresh bread continued to rise.