Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFKB9S6Q38WYMW2Z45HVXV1

The bell above the door chimed, a familiar, tinny sound against the warm thrum of the ovens. Flour dust motes danced in a beam of late afternoon sun. “I’m telling you, it’s not right. The vanilla extract is always full on Mondays.” “A delivery hiccup, maybe. Or you used more than you thought in the Saturday scones.” “Never. I measure. And look—this is the second time this month. A whole bottle, just… gone. And the lock on the pantry hasn’t been forced.” “Hmm. You know, old Mr. Henderson said he saw a light moving back here last night. Thought it was you, doing a late bake.” “I was home by eight. And my car was in the driveway.” “So someone else has a key?” A pause, filled with the soft *thump* of dough being punched down. “The only other key is the spare. And it’s been hanging on the hook by the register since we opened.” “The one anyone could see? And take?” “…Anyone who knew where to look.”