Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1GRFVYKX365MZE6EKSXCB9

The bell above the door jingled as the morning light spilled across the worn wooden floor. "You're here early. Couldn't sleep either?" "Not after what happened to poor Mr. Abernathy. Right here in town, can you believe it?" "I heard he was found in his study. Such a shame, he always bought the cinnamon rolls on Sundays." "Two of them. Never just one." A pause, the soft scrape of a tray being set down. "Did the police say anything?" "Only that it wasn't an accident. The way Officer Combs was asking questions, you'd think half of us were suspects." "Well, somebody knew something. He wasn't the type to make enemies." "Everyone makes enemies, dear. Some just hide them better than others." The clink of a coffee cup against a saucer. "You don't think it was anyone we know, do you?" "I try not to think such things before my second cup. But I'll tell you what's strange—he came in Thursday looking pale as flour. Asked me if I could keep a secret." "And did you?" "He never told me what it was. Left without his rolls, which he'd never done before." "Never?" "Not once in twelve years. That's when I knew something was terribly wrong."