Run: 2026-04-25-01KQ2DRD33VHR8DB5FXBWTBHZF

The bell above the bakery door jingled, scattering the scent of cinnamon and warm sugar through the air. One voice, low and familiar, broke the quiet hum of the refrigerated display case. “You’ve been staring at that lemon tart for five minutes. It’s not going to confess to anything.” A pause. The shuffle of a foot on the checkered linoleum. “I’m not interrogating a pastry, I’m thinking.” “Thinking loud enough to curdle the cream. What’s her name?” “Not a her. It’s the note.” “The one tucked under the flour sack?” “Yes. ‘The secret is in the second rising.’ That’s what it said.” A soft laugh, like crumbling shortbread. “And you think that means… what? Someone’s hiding more than a sourdough starter?” “I think it means Gladys Pottle didn’t just die of a bad batch of clotted cream.” “You always did see a conspiracy in a crumb.” “And you always find a reason to eat the evidence. Care to split that tart while we talk?” The glass case slid open with a gentle sigh. “Only if you tell me about the first rising.”