Run: 2026-03-18-01KM1H69YXHGC1M3S50DGT5QKZ

Morning light filtered through the lace curtains of Mae's Bakery, casting a warm glow over fresh scones and the scent of cinnamon. Two women lingered behind the counter, one arranging croissants, the other wiping crumbs from the glass case. Their conversation floated like flour dust on the windowsill. “Did you notice the apple pie was missing?” “The scent of coffee lingered.” “It vanished sometime after midnight.” A spoon tapped against a mug. “The back door was left unlocked again.” “I saw fresh footprints in the flour, right by the counter.” A whisper rose, barely louder than the ticking clock. “Blue coat? Could be. There was a faint scent of pine, like a winter jacket left in a car.” A note slipped from under the sugar jar. “‘All good things come to those who wait.’” The words hung, a familiar line from the old town charter. “Someone is sending a message.” A murmur of agreement slipped between the shelves. “Or a warning. The key under the flowerpot is gone.” They exchanged a quick nod, the bell above the door chimed, and a first customer stepped in, oblivious to the secret swirling in the warm air.