Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFBB5CRZXW2EZK5K2TQ165B

Morning light filters through the flour-dusted windows, and the scent of cinnamon still clings to the air. I swear the ledger showed no missing pastries yesterday. But the dog‑eared receipt on the counter tells a different story. Someone slipped a note into the sugar jar, scribbled in that looping script we both recognize. Who would want to ruin Marjorie's birthday cake? I found a half‑eaten croissant near the espresso machine, the crumb pattern looks intentional. It matches the pattern on the missing recipe cards. Do you think the old ledger is more reliable than the new spreadsheet? If the missing cash register tape is any clue, the thief timed the break‑in perfectly. We should check the security footage from last night. The camera outside the back door was angled toward the dumpster. But what about the one inside, aimed at the display case? It was turned off for maintenance—coincidence? Maybe someone knew the schedule and exploited the gap. Or perhaps it was an accidental mishap, a distraction that went too far. Either way, we need to follow the trail before the town's reputation crumbles. I tucked the crumpled paper into my pocket, feeling its edges softened by flour. The baker's apprentice glanced up, eyes wide, as the bell above the door chimed unexpectedly.