Run: 2026-03-06-01KK1HYJCY7ZNT4MBPRNX89SBX

The bell over the bakery door gave a tired jingle, and a gust of October air sent cinnamon and yeast swirling together. Behind the glass case, maple scones sat in tidy rows beside plum tarts, each one glossy as a jewel. Near the espresso machine, a smear of flour crossed the chalkboard menu as if someone had tried to erase bad news in a hurry. “You’re staring at the éclairs like they’ve insulted you.” “I’m staring at the empty space beside them. There were six lemon bars this morning.” “And now there are five. Hardly a felony.” “It is when the missing one was sitting on top of an envelope addressed to me.” “That does make it less like a snack and more like a message.” “Exactly. And don’t give me that look.” “What look?” “The one that says I’ve been reading too many detective novels.” “I’d never say that in a bakery where your mother can hear me from the kitchen.” A mixer thumped to life in the back room, then stopped abruptly. “She was supposed to be at the flower committee meeting.” “Then who’s in the kitchen?” “That’s what I intend to find out.” “You intend? With that rolling pin?” “It’s for confidence.” “It’s for pie crust.” A pause settled between the clink of cups and the hum of the refrigerator. “If the envelope’s gone too, this isn’t about dessert.” “No. It’s about why someone in Maple Hollow is suddenly afraid of the mail.”