Run: 2026-09-02-01M1HASH4HXE0YQGMA79AF13D5

The bell above the door chimed, cutting through yeast and sugar. Warmth radiated from the ovens. "You're late." "Roadblock's up again. Past Miller's place." A tray clanged on the counter. "Turn around. That's not maintenance." "Miller claims his petunias need guarding from dogs. Honest work." "Honest work doesn't have a sheriff's cruiser idling by the shed at dawn. And it doesn't explain the gun oil on your coat." Silence stretched, thick as frosting. Dough bubbled impatiently in the corner. A spoon scraped ceramic, frantic. "Paranoia. It's just bake sales and nosy neighbors." "Maybe. Or maybe the petunias mask something else." A paper bag slid across the wood. "Lock the back door. Police tape is already wrapping around the property." Hands hovered over the bag, flour coating the knuckles. Gaze flicked to the kitchen doors. "If you think I'm burying trouble behind the sourdough, you're mistaken." "I think you're bad at lying when your boots are caked with red clay." The mixer roared, drowning the silence, though nobody reached for the switch. "Wipe the floor, Clara. Wipe it clean. Then we discuss what Miller's really hiding."