Run: 2026-03-18-01KM07X598CD0QZ33YYAATEED5

Flour hung in the air like a soft snowfall, turning the morning sunlight into something almost golden. Bundled up in a scarf, Claire leaned over the counter and nudged a tray of cinnamon rolls closer to the edge of the warmer, where the heat couldn’t quite scorch them. “You’re smiling like you just found money under the floorboards,” said Marla. “I did,” Claire replied, lowering her voice. “Not money-money. More like… secrets.” Marla’s eyes flicked to the front door as the bell jingled. “Because the town is full of secrets. It’s practically a hobby.” Claire slid a small paper bundle across the counter. “Look at what was taped to the donation jar. Right where the clerk left it overnight.” Marla untied the twine, revealing a folded note and a key tag stamped with the name of the historical society. “This isn’t for me.” “Maybe it’s for you,” Claire said. “Or for whoever’s been sneaking in after hours.” A wary pause settled between them as the oven clicked, inhaling and exhaling sweet butter and danger. Marla finally tucked the note back into the bundle. “Fine,” she said. “We’ll follow the trail. But if anyone asks, we’re just here for the sampling.” Claire grinned. “Deal. Cinnamon first, crime second.”