Run: 2026-07-09-01KX41D138ZBD4NG353T9J33X5

The bell above the bakery door chimed, though no one entered. Mara glanced up from the cooling rack. “That’s the third time today.” “Draft from the alley?” “The alley door is locked.” Across the counter, Mr. Bell stirred sugar into his coffee. “Then perhaps the bakery is haunted.” “Haunted bakeries don’t usually smell like burnt almond cake.” “They might, if the ghost is a poor baker.” Mara lifted the cake from the oven and frowned. Beneath the glaze, a dark crescent marred the sponge. Tucked beside it was a folded scrap of paper. “What does it say?” She opened it. “‘Stop asking about the blue ribbon.’” Mr. Bell’s spoon clinked against his cup. “I wouldn’t worry about it.” “That’s exactly what someone says when I should worry.” From the back room came a soft crash. Mara reached for the rolling pin. “Surely you don’t intend to fight a ghost with that.” “It’s maplewood. Very sturdy.” They crept past sacks of flour and trays of cinnamon buns. The back door stood open, letting in the crisp scent of rain. On the floor lay a trail of powdered sugar, leading to the old delivery cart. Mara followed it and found a muddy boot print. Mr. Bell sighed. “You always did have a talent for finding trouble.” “And you always did know more than you admitted.” A shadow moved beyond the window. Mara tightened her grip on the rolling pin. “Now, shall we see who wants a slice of cake?”