Run: 2026-03-18-01KM0861VKRS2CB7XJB7Y17AWP

The bell over the bakery door gave a cheerful jingle as the morning air spilled in, carrying the smell of rain and wet brick. “Tell me again why you’re kneading dough at six-thirty in the morning instead of sleeping like a sensible person?” “Because sensible people don’t own bakeries.” “Debatable.” A tray of cinnamon rolls came out of the oven, their edges glossy with melted sugar. Behind the counter, Clara set them down and waved away the steam with her oven mitt. “If you’re here to mock my life choices, at least buy a scone.” “I came for the scone, the coffee, and the scandal.” Clara arched a brow. “We have a scandal?” “Maybe. Mrs. Pritchard’s cat was seen in the mayor’s garden last night, and now three rose bushes are missing.” “That sounds more like a gardening crime than a scandal.” “It gets better. The missing roses were found in a basket outside your back door this morning.” Clara paused, flour dusting her hands like snow. “That’s odd.” “Odd enough that Deputy Owens asked if you noticed anyone lurking around after closing.” A tiny bell inside the bakery seemed to stop ringing all at once. “Well,” Clara said, glancing toward the back hall, “now that is the first interesting thing all week.”