Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1G0EKBXHS7KQAD5SM0ZW69

The smell of cinnamon and yeast hung in the air, warm and familiar, a comforting backdrop to the unease settling between them. Morning sunlight slanted through the front window, catching flour dust motes drifting above the display case. "You're sure you saw her take it?" "I didn't say take. I said pocket. There's a difference." "A difference that matters to the police, perhaps." "It should matter to you. She was standing right here, ordering a dozen lemon bars while that brooch sat in the velvet case the whole time." "And you think I didn't notice?" "I think you noticed everything. That's why your hands are shaking." A pause. The old clock behind the register ticked softly. Outside, Mrs. Hadley's terrier barked at a passing bicycle. "She said she was collecting for the church restoration fund." "She did." "And you believed her?" "I believe everyone until they give me reason not to. It's served me well enough for forty years of baking." "Until today." The bell above the door chimed softly. Both fell quiet, watching the woman from the hardware store step inside, her eyes darting toward the case beneath the counter.