Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ74FRE3CYY5H72KPJGRAKJ0

Flour dust hung over the scarred oak counter. Fresh sourdough slid onto the cooling rack as the brass bell pinged. “You’re early.” “Main Street was quiet. I needed to ask about yesterday’s delivery.” “Everything arrived before dawn, as contracted. The flour, oats, and vanilla.” “Then the empty crate at the back alley doesn’t match the ledger. Who signed?” “Only Mrs. Gable takes crates that size. But she hasn’t passed the clock tower in three days.” “Three days breaks a bakery’s rhythm. Did you see the blue van?” “Blue van, green van, identical to me. I knead dough and watch timers. Look past the cases if you want answers.” “The display is where I found the silk handkerchief. Stitched with a raven. No rural decor.” “Put it on the desk. Came yesterday. Wrong order, wrong name. I meant to return it.” “To whom?” “The tag says ‘Havenbrook Estate.’ Closed since the fire.” “Why send it here, wrapped around a missing crate of premium grain?” “Maybe they wanted a quiet place to make a switch. Or maybe they just liked rising bread. The ledger won’t lie. The signature reads Thomas.” “Thomas is your nephew. He works the evening shift.” “So I hear.”