Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD7NXNH4B4QGRX85E4FE2WF

The bell over Willow Lane Bakery jingled, letting in a gust of cold November air and the smell of wet leaves. The display case was already half-empty, only a few scones and one last apple crumble remaining. Behind the counter, flour dusted every surface, and a chalkboard read: CLOSED FOR PRIVATE TASTING - Noon. "You're early. Tasting isn't for another hour, and you weren't invited." "Neither was half the town, but we all heard you finally perfected Mrs. Abernathy's lemon tart recipe. The one she took to her grave." "That recipe died with her, and you know it. I found this in my grandmother's recipe box. Completely different." "Really? Because Mrs. Abernathy's niece says you were in her kitchen the day she passed, measuring sugar while the poor woman was measuring her last breaths." "She offered me tea! I offered to help clean up. That's what neighbors do here." "Neighbors don't usually pocket handwritten recipe cards. Or leave floury fingerprints on the back door." "Are you here to buy something or just stir up trouble like your newspaper usually does?" "Both. I'll take the apple crumble. And the truth, if you have a slice of that left."