Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ775JGCSECG8BQH8RX9Z96E

The bell above the door jingled, cutting through the rich aroma of cardamom rolls. Martha kept her back to the window, her knitting needles flashing white against her cardigan. "You're scuffing the linoleum with those muddy boots, Eleanor. And you're letting the draft kill my croissants." "Let me in, you old stick. And tell me you heard the rumors about the stranger renting the Miller cottage." "Rumors? In Oakhaven? Nothing stays secret longer than yesterday's sourdough. What's he done?" "He's asking questions about the flood of '98. Specifically, about what the Miller family took to the basement." Martha's needles clicked harder, a frantic staccato. "The Millers drowned. There was no basement, and certainly no treasure." "That's what the town believes. But I saw the stranger dumping a locked metal box into the creek behind the church. And he wasn't alone. Someone helped him." The knitting ceased abruptly. Martha stared at the empty space across the counter, her knuckles whitening around her scarf. "Then you'd better start counting your tea cups, Eleanor. Because if he's digging for the Miller ledger, he'll come back here. And I have a feeling I'm the only one who knows where Arthur hid it."