Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFFW4B8N68N451FD5B3TEEK

The air in "Honeycomb Bakery" was thick with the scent of cinnamon and rising dough. Sunlight streamed through the wide front window, illuminating flour-dusted surfaces and a row of golden-crusted loaves. "Another one? You're sure it wasn't the oven acting up?" "Positive. Same batch of flour, same recipe. But this morning's batch of scones came out rock-hard. Almost inedible." "And yesterday's sponge cake…" "Fell like a stone. The Mayor's wife nearly sent it back, and you know she never complains." A long pause, filled only by the gentle hum of the cooler. "Who else has access to the flour bin, besides us?" "Just the delivery man, and…" A soft clatter of a ceramic mug being set down hard. "You don't think." "I don't know what to think. But we'd better start locking the pantry. And maybe have a quiet word with Mr. Henderson about his delivery schedule."