Run: 2026-07-01-01KWE8YC2VT8FQYB6JG2H0T35A

The bell above the door jingled as Margaret shook rain from her umbrella, the smell of cinnamon and fresh bread wrapping around her like a blanket. "You're late. I already ate your croissant." "You did not." "Try me." Margaret slid onto the stool at the counter, eyeing the empty plate suspiciously. "Where's Delilah? She never leaves the shop unattended during the morning rush." "That's the thing. She hasn't come in yet." "Delilah? Late? She's opened this bakery at six a.m. sharp for eleven years." "I know. I called her cell twice. Straight to voicemail." "Did you check upstairs? She lives right above the shop." "Knocked. Nothing. Her car's still in the back lot, though." Margaret's fingers drummed against the counter, the rain outside growing heavier, tapping against the fogged windows. "That's not like her at all. Especially not with the church bake sale tomorrow. She'd never miss prep day." "That's what worries me. She mentioned something yesterday, about a man in a gray coat asking questions about the old Hendricks property." "The property she inherited last spring?" "The very same." "Well then." Margaret stood, buttoning her coat back up. "I suppose we'd better go check on her."