Run: 2026-09-01-01M1ENQJR4SPHZ0XS6YV5VAJV5

Flour dust hung like snow over the marble counter, and the oven timer ticked loud in the quiet bakery. "You left the back door unlocked." "I was turning out brioche at two. The latch sticks." "It's not the latch. It's the rye sack in the basement with its label peeled off." "Every delivery gets relabeled." "Not when someone takes a razor to the paper and replaces the supplier's initials with a single letter: V." "Victor's Mill delivers Tuesdays." "I know you ordered cardamom yesterday, and the council meets at ten." A whisk clattered. "The scones tasted wrong." "Exactly wrong. I found the anise oil behind the mixing bowls, not in the pantry." "You're saying I poisoned customers?" "Someone who knows this kitchen hides things in the flour bin. Someone who knows you bake for Mrs. Peabody on Wednesdays." The doorbell jingled. Footsteps paused. "Why are you here?" "The missing delivery wasn't rye. It was the old mill's ledger. A baker's reputation is a perfect hiding place." Flour sifted through white fingers. "You think I moved it." "Not yet. But if that cardamom stays anise, nobody trusts the vote, or your croissants. You'll choose between pride and this town's breakfast."