Run: 2026-05-10-01KR938FGBXBSNHW1AQMD3HDJH

The scent of cinnamon and warm yeast hung heavy in the air, a comforting blanket against the drizzly morning. A bell chimed over the door, cutting through the quiet, rhythmic hum of the ovens. Flour dusted the mahogany counter like a fine, white mist, catching the soft light from the storefront window. "You won't believe what I saw by the old mill this morning." "Not again, Clara. I told you those ruins are off-limits." "It wasn't a person, not exactly. Just a shadow that moved far too quickly for a stray cat." "The wind plays tricks in the valley. You know that." "The wind doesn't leave muddy footprints in the shape of a heavy work boot, does it?" "You're letting your imagination run away with you." "My imagination didn't feel the chill of someone watching me from the treeline." "And you didn't think to call the constable?" "And have him think I’m losing my wits? No thank you. I'd rather keep my dignity." "Well, at least you brought your appetite. The lavender scones are just coming out of the oven." "I suppose a bit of lemon glaze will help me forget the terror."