Run: 2026-05-10-01KR8VMJASG1K91B9XW3YBHVJS

The scent of cinnamon and warm yeast hung heavy in the air, a comforting blanket against the morning mist clinging to the windowpanes. A fine dusting of flour coated the mahogany counter, where a single, golden croissant sat on a lace doily. "The blueberry scones are fresh out of the oven." "I didn't come for scones, Martha." "Then what brings you in so early? It's barely seven." "I saw a black sedan idling by the old mill last night. Around midnight." "The mill? That road's been closed since the spring floods." "Exactly. And someone was parked right by the rusted gate." "Are you sure it wasn't just the Miller boy playing pranks again?" "He doesn't drive a car like that. It was sleek. Too expensive for this town." "Maybe it was just a traveler passing through, lost on the way to the coast." "Not at midnight. Not on a dead-end road." A heavy silence settled between them, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. Outside, the fog pressed against the glass, thick and secretive.