Run: 2026-05-01-01KQHQKH0837W0V15YBV6EQWJR

The bell above the door jingled as Harriet stepped into Flour & Folly, the scent of warm cinnamon and vanilla wrapping around her like an old friend. Mrs. Pickering was already at the counter, tapping her foot. “Those lemon bars yesterday were dry as dust. I nearly choked.” “Strange, because every single one sold before noon. Perhaps your taste buds are the ones getting dusty.” A tray of fresh scones slid across the marble. Steam curled upward. “Try one of these instead. Cranberry-orange. Still warm.” A pause. The sound of a napkin unfolding. “If I keel over from arsenic, I expect you to close the shop out of respect.” “Only if you promise to haunt the oven. It’s been acting up again.” A delicate crunch, then a soft sigh that seemed to melt the morning frost from the windows. “Oh, bother. These are perfect. You always were too clever for your own good.” Harriet smiled behind the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. “And you were always too honest. Another dozen for the bridge club?” “Make it two. And throw in some of that gossip about the new librarian while you’re at it.”