Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFN37TMK2FT3K397ASH81XP

Morning light slanted through the bakery’s front windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing over the pastry case. The air was thick with cinnamon and yeast, the hum of the big refrigerator a low, steady counterpoint to the distant whine of a mixer from the kitchen. “You’re sure about the timing?” The voice was soft, barely carried over the crinkle of wax paper being folded. A second voice, warmer but strained, replied. “The security camera by the delivery door glitched right at 2:15. A complete black hole for eight minutes. He was the only one with the key code.” “And the flour?” “Bag was new, sealed. I checked the lot number myself. Nothing on the manifest from the supplier was off.” A long pause, filled by the sharp *tap-tap-tap* of a whisk against a ceramic bowl. “People talk. They see things they don’t even realize they’re seeing until after.” “I know. But what they’re seeing doesn’t make any sense. He had no reason.” The warmer voice softened to a near whisper. “Reasons aren’t always obvious. Sometimes they’re baked right into the everyday, hidden under a layer of sugar.” The whisking stopped. A heavy sigh joined the smell of yeast. “I just wish I knew what he was kneading at that hour.” The other figure didn’t answer, just reached for the display case’s glass, their finger leaving a small, perfect circle of fog on the surface.