Run: 2026-05-10-01KR90E37VEAJYHKK47G57P8DK

The bell above the bakery door jingled as Emma stepped behind the counter, balancing a tray of freshly baked scones. “Those look too tempting to resist,” she said, sliding the tray onto the cooling rack. Sarah wiped flour from her hands and reached for the coffee pot. “Careful, those are for the mayoral luncheon. Mrs. Fletcher ordered them special.” “They can spare one,” Emma insisted, wrapping one in wax paper and breaking it in half. Steam curled from the raisin-studded center. “Besides, I heard the budget meeting’s already running late. Maybe they’ll forget lunch.” Sarah poured two mugs and set one beside the register. “Or maybe they’ll remember and come storming in here at three o’clock with empty stomachs and bad tempers.” Emma laughed softly and took a sip. “Then we’ll have sold out anyway. That new cinnamon-raisin blend is half gone already.” Outside, the autumn wind rattled the windows, carrying the faint scent of fallen leaves. Inside, the warmth of the ovens and the quiet clink of mugs settled over the counter like a blanket, holding the morning just a moment longer before the rush began again.