Run: 2026-04-27-01KQ77BGWGDA2RHW68SAKG4QJ9

Flour dusted the scarred oak counter like fresh snow. The bell above the door had stopped jangling, but the scent of brown sugar and cardamom still clung to the warm, yeast-heavy air. “You left the back door unlatched again.” “I was hauling out the proofing baskets. Besides, nothing worth stealing lives in a flour tin.” “Someone disagrees. There’s a fresh mud print on the linoleum. Size ten, heavy tread.” “Probably just the morning delivery boy. He never wipes his boots.” “The delivery boy wears canvas sneakers. And he certainly doesn’t leave wax seals on the floorboards.” A tarnished brass button rolled from beneath the glass display case, clicking against the tile. “That’s from Mayor Higgins’ wool overcoat.” “Was. Before it got torn off near the alley gate. I found it tucked under a sack of rye.” “He swore he hadn’t left town since Tuesday.” “People swear a lot of things when they’re kneading secrets into their morning routine.” The oven timer chimed, sharp and insistent. “Lock the front. I’ll fetch the broom. And the ledger.” “Best hurry. The cinnamon rolls are burning, and so is his alibi.”